Joker's Smile
by LilOrchidJenny
Summary: Emma Sheffield is new to Impact, forced to work as Eric Bischoff's assistant. All she wants is to keep her head down, but she finds the task impossible as she's caught between Bischoff and Sting as they vie for power. A bit of an AU.
1. Part One: Another Day at the Office

No, I'm not giving up on _The Man In Me_. :P This is just a little something I've been working on. And while I'm working my way through the next part of _TMIM _I thought I'd go ahead and post this. Hope you enjoy. :)

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It was a bright and sunny day down in Orlando, Florida. The sky was a beautiful, crisp blue with white, fluffy clouds lazily rolling by. It was the kind of day to go out and play; to soak up the sunshine and bask in it's warm light.

But inside the Impact Zone there were no blue skies, no fluffy clouds.

And there certainly was no sunshine.

Footfalls echoed throughout the bare corridor as Emma Sheffield made her way through the building. In her hands was her ever present clipboard and on her face was a frown. An expression that had become her mask for the majority of the six months she had worked at TNA.

The young woman kept her head down and briskly continued on as she made her way through the building and towards her boss, Eric Bischoff's, office.

As she walked she passed by a few of the Knockouts. She glanced over at them and offered a kind, though small, smile before rushing on.

Tara gave her a wave while Velvet Sky simply frowned.

"Jeez, she really needs to lighten up." Velvet sighed, "She always looks so down in the dumps."

Tara looked after the young woman and shrugged, "I don't think she likes being here."

"Then why work here?" Velvet questions, "There are other places to go work."

"I don't know." Tara glanced back at Velvet, "Maybe I'm wrong. I mean, she's always been nice to me. Maybe she's just having a rough day."

"For the past six months?" Velvet arched an eyebrow.

"Well think of how you'd feel if you had to work closely with Eric Bischoff." Tara disputed with a knowing look.

That gave Velvet reason to pause.

She watched as Emma round the corner and disappeared from view, "I guess you're right."

Emma glanced at her watch and picked up her pace. The last thing she wanted to do was keep Bischoff waiting. To do so would only cause her more grief. And that was the last thing she needed.

She eventually reached a closed door and was about to reach for it when it swung open from the other side. She quickly jumped back to avoid being hit, her eyes widening in surprise.

Suddenly there was Kurt Angle, emerging through the doorway.

"Sorry." Kurt gave her a nod.

"That's all right." Emma assured him, offering a ghost of a smile.

She promptly ducked past him, hurrying on. There was just something about him that unnerved her. It must have been his crazy eyes.

Emma looked up, spotted Eric's office up ahead. As she reached it she felt her stomach begin to tie into knots and her heart begin to pound. All telltale signs of her nerves threatening to go out of control.

She placed her hand on the doorknob and closed her eyes, slowly taking a few deep breaths. She willed herself to calm down, knowing that if Eric saw her anxious he would pounce on it. The last thing she wanted to do was give him an advantage.

_Get control, calm down,_ she told herself, _You're fine. Or at least you're going to pretend you are. So put on your mask and just do your job._

She opened the door and walked inside, finding Eric seated at his desk. He was hunched over a small stack of papers, reading them over carefully.

"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Bischoff?" she asked, her tone at once businesslike, "I think Catering still has a few cheese Danish left over. I could go get one for you."

Eric looked up from his paperwork, his blue eyes slowly trailing over her body. The insulting look made Emma's skin crawl. More than anything she wanted to reach across the desk and slap the cretin, but she kept her temper in check and forced herself to not react.

A sly smile came to Eric's lips as he replied smoothly, "While a Danish sounds good I would rather treat myself to a cupcake, cupcake."

Emma's eyes constricted and her hands tightened on her clipboard until her knuckles turned white.

"Sorry but I don't believe Catering has any cupcakes." she added with a smirk, "Perhaps I can get you a prune Danish instead. I heard they work wonders for guys your age."

Eric lost his leer for a moment and Emma knew she had stung him. The realization caused her to do a little happy dance in her head.

But just as it had left, it was quickly replaced with a conniving grin, "I'd watch it, Emma. Don't forget I still own you for another four and a half years."

He rose from his desk but didn't make a move towards her. Just the same Emma found herself taking a step back in trepidation.

"Of course," Eric gave her another long, slow once over, "Things could go easier on you if you'd just play ball. I could make it worth your while."

Emma was about to tell him there wasn't enough money in the world that would make him worth anything to her but she didn't get the chance. At that moment the door swung open with a great flourish and who should come in like a whirlwind but Sting. Or the Insane Icon as those around the building were beginning to call him. And he was playing the part to the hilt, what with the crazy white, red and black face pain that he was now sporting.

Emma made her way across the room, wanting to keep as much distance from the unstable man as possible. She leaned back against the wall, hoping to blend in and not catch his eye. She really didn't need to deal with him now and she certainly didn't want to be the butt of any of his crazy antics.

She couldn't believe how much Sting had changed. She used to be so in awe of him back when she was in high school. Back when he was going through his "Crow" phase.

Actually awe wasn't even a strong enough word to describe it. No, it was more like a terribly huge crush. Or even. . .puppy love.

But to see him now, well he definitely still affected her. But now the only emotions he invoked out of her were apprehension and dread.

Her eyes darted over to Eric and she couldn't help but smirk. No matter how jumpy she was feeling it didn't compare to the downright terror that had overcome Eric. She enjoyed seeing that more than she could have thought possible.

Sting kicked the door closed, the suddenly noise causing Eric to jump. The wrestler bounded into the room and actually took a seat on top of Eric's desk, sitting Indian style. Eric tried to side step him, but Sting grabbed a hold of the front of Eric's shirt and yanked him forward until the pair were practically nose-to-nose.

Eric looked into Sting's brown eyes and paled considerable.

"Wh-wh-what do you want, Sting?" he tried to sound tough but with the way his voice trembled he couldn't quite pull it off.

"Wh-wh-wh-what do I wh-wh-want?" Sting exaggerated his stammer before flashing his perfect white teeth at Eric. With the crazy face paint the smile looked more sinister than it should have been.

"What do you want?" Eric bellowed, his fear making him angry.

Sting shoved Eric away, causing the other man to fall back onto his desk chair. It rolled against the wall and jerked to a stop, Eric bouncing in the seat. He looked up at Sting with wide eyes.

"Well let's see." Sting pretended to contemplate, "Hmm, what do I want?"

"I know!" he yelled as he jumped off the desk, causing both Eric and Emma to start with surprise, "How about a pizza party? Come on, Eric, let's have a pizza party! Pies as far as the eye can see! Oh, and casual Fridays! Everyone in their jammies!"

His smile faded and the Insane Icon left for a moment, "Also, how about you give Dixie Carter back her company."

Sting puffed out his chest and the Insane Icon made his return as he finished in a voice dripping with false pretension, "And, of course, world peace."

Eric stared at him like he was mad. Which he very well may have been.

"What?" he gasped in exasperation, "What? Get out of here! Get out of here, Sting, before I have security throw you out!"

Sting suddenly leaned forward, grabbing Eric by the back of the head and yanking him forward until they were once again mere inches apart.

"I'll drop you on your head before they even make it into the room." Sting muttered, Insane Icon persona once again vanishing for a moment. In it's place was something very cold and very dark and it actually made Emma afraid.

Sting straightened and patted Eric on the cheek, once more grinning like the madman he was, "Good talk, Eric. Good talk."

He walked around the desk and started to leave when he caught sight of Emma. He turned to face her, now focusing all of his attention onto her.

Emma tried to appear calm and nonchalant but she couldn't stop the slight tremble that began to race through her body. She also couldn't hide the fear that welled up in her blue-green eyes. The truth was he really scared her.

And he knew it.

Sting slowly walked over to her, as though any sudden movement might spook her. He stopped about a foot or two away from her but it was still much too close for Emma's liking. He was so tall and she so short, 6'2" to her 5'1" height, that she was forced to crank her neck back to look up at him.

The wrestler looked her over with something unreadable in his eyes. He appeared to be considering something. Something Emma really didn't want to know.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have very pretty eyes?" Sting asked her, unpredictably serious.

Emma blinked in surprise. Okay that was definitely not what she was expecting.

He flashed a grin at her, "Big bluish greenish eyes. And all those long lashes. Very pretty."

And without another word he turned and left the office.

Emma found herself staring after him, completely at a loss of what to say or think. Of all the things she expected him to say, giving her a compliment was the very last thing on her list. Heck, it hadn't even made the list.

Emma blinked again, coming out of her thoughts. She noticed that Eric was watching her, his features hardened, his mouth a slash. At his expression she sighed. Great, just what she needed.

"If you're done flirting with the freak," Eric replied loudly, "You can go change the toilet paper rolls in the men's room."

He flashed a cocky smile, adding, "Of course, if you just lightened up a little you wouldn't have to do it or anything like it again. Come on, Emma. I can make the next four years here a dream for you. Just say the word."

Emma had a lot of words she wanted to say to him. But they certainly weren't the ones he was hoping to hear.

"I guess I better go change the rolls." she muttered darkly before storming out of the office.

She surged through the halls, her anger causing her pace to quicken.

She'd like to tell Eric Bischoff what he could do with his toilet paper rolls. Ugh, the nerve of him! He was so spineless, so. . .so. . .ugh, she couldn't even think of enough vile words to call him.

Emma rounded a corner and suddenly crashed into a human brick wall.

"Oof!" she gasped and staggered back.

Suddenly a pair of large hands took hold of her, steadying her before she could fall. She slowly paned up the hands to a pair of arms to the masked, hulking figure of Abyss. He was looking down at her, hesitant and shy. As if realizing that he still had a hold of her he promptly let her go and backed away.

Emma smiled brightly up at him. Though others might have been afraid of him, even likening him to some sort of monster, she wasn't. From the moment she had stepped foot into the Impact Zone Chris had been shy and even sweet to her.

"Hey, Chris." she greeted him warmly, "Thanks for the save. After the day I've had I really didn't need to add a fall to it."

Abyss slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and ducked his head, asking quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." she patted his massive arm, adding, "Nothing I can't handle. I'll see you later."

Abyss nodded to her and tentatively walked away. Emma stared after him and sighed. She felt so bad for him. He always seemed so lonely, so sad.

She continued on, finally approaching the men's room. She closed her eyes briefly and cursed Eric's name in her head.

She sighed and knocked on the door, calling out, "Anyone in there?"

She was answered with silence. Thinking better of it, though, she knocked again and waited.

The coast was clear.

Emma quickly slipped inside and changed the toilet paper rolls. She then wandered over to the sink and began to wash her hands.

After drying them she lifted her head, her unhappy reflection greeting her in the mirror.

Only her reflection wasn't alone. Standing behind her, grinning wildly, was Sting.

Sting noted that she didn't even flinch at his suddenly appearance and he couldn't help but respect her for that. Most women, and men for that matter, would have jumped out of their skin or yelped. But not this one. She had a steel spine.

Neither spoke for a long time as they simply studied each other in the mirror. She didn't like the way he was looking at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking under all that face paint.

Sting leaned in ever so slightly and finally asked, "Why are you staring?"

Emma's eyebrows arched in disbelief. He was asking_ her _why _she _was staring? Really?

"I don't know." she found herself quipping, "I was just trying to decide if you're certifiable or psychotic."

Sting suddenly grabbed her shoulders and this time she did yelp. He knelt down and leaned in close, until they were cheek-to-cheek, that ever present crazy grin staring back at her from the mirror. Emma, feeling afraid, tried to duck away but his grip was too strong. He could hold her there all day if he wanted to.

And he knew that she knew it.

Her eyes narrowed in anger as she realized he was just trying to scare her. Of course he was doing a great job of it but she wasn't about to let him see it.

"Just think of how much fun it'll be for you to find out." Sting laughed at her, his own brown eyes wide.

Out of instinct Emma tried to break free once more. But still it did her no good.

Her chin went up a notch as an unexpected burst of courage welled up inside her.

"Are you done now?" she asked evenly.

But he didn't say a word. He just continued to stare at her reflection with that same maniacal expression.

After a few more seconds she couldn't take it anymore and she gasped, "What?"

Sting turned serious and straightened, but he didn't release the hold on her shoulders.

"I can't figure you out." he said at long last, lips pursed in thought, "You align yourself with Bischoff and Immortal, but you don't act like the rest of them. I saw how you were with Abyss earlier. You were nice to the big guy."

"Chris is just misunderstood." Emma disputed, "He's actually very sweet. But nobody takes the time to try and get to know him."

She sighed, "And I'm not aligned with anyone. I'm just here to do my job."

Sting looked around the men's room before turning back to her and quipping, "And what an important job it is, too."

Emma looked away, fighting not to lose her temper. She just wanted to get out of there and as far away from him as she could. He made her nervous. Especially the way he kept staring at her.

"I'd like to go back to work now." she told him, her tone cool, "Please."

"One more thing." Sting murmured thoughtfully.

He suddenly grabbed a hold of the clip that was holding her hair up in it's usual bun. Emma was stunned and started to struggle a little before thinking better of it and stopping. If she fought him it might make him angry. And the last thing she wanted to deal with was an angry Insane Icon.

She actually feared for a moment that he was going to cut her hair. He was just so out of control that she didn't know what he was capable of. She tried to look for any sign of scissors but there didn't appear to be any.

Without a word Sting removed the clip, causing her almost waist-long, chestnut brown mass curls to fall onto her shoulders and down her back.

He leaned in, again his face pressed against hers. His expression was so serious that Emma found she was caught, unable to move or speak as she awaited what he would say or do.

"I've always wondered what you would look like with your hair down." he replied softly, "That's much better."

He straightened, released her and walked out the door as if nothing had just happened.

Emma watched after him in mute surprise. That was definitely not what she was expecting.

Absently her hand went to her hair and she shook her head. She just couldn't figure him out. There were times where he seemed over the edge. Crazy. But then he would have moments, sparks really, where she could see the old Sting.

Was it all just an act, she wondered. A way to put Bishoff on edge and throw him off of his game?

Or was he really just mad?

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Sting stalked off down the hall. As he passed by Mr. Anderson and Magnus he suddenly spun around.

"Boo!" he yelled before laughing and continuing on.

"Real funny, Stinger!" Mr. Anderson called after him, annoyed.

Sting paid him no heed as he turned and ducked out of sight. He had plans for tonight. Everything needed to go perfectly so that he could catch Immortal red handed, as it were.

He snickered at his little joke as he ascended up to the rafters and began to check on some ropes. Good, they were nice and tight. Nothing would happen until he was ready.

He finished setting up his surprise and leaned against the railing, looking out over the arena.

The ring stood silent and true in the middle of the room. A lone light shone on it, as though likening it to a beacon.

And it was for many guys. A place for a man to find fortune and glory. To prove he was the best. To show that he could go the distance. It meant different things to many people.

For him, it was home.

He loved being out there. He loved competing. He loved hearing the fans and thriving on their energy.

This business, this place, was everything to him.

And he wasn't going to let Bischoff and Immortal ruin it. Not without a fight.

Sting found his thoughts wandering to Bischoff's little assistant. Now there was a mystery. He couldn't figure her out.

She didn't look like she belonged with Bischoff's group. Heck, she didn't even look like Eric's usual assistants. They were typically, let's say, easy. Complete with tons of make-up, low cut tops and skirts so short that the whole world was their gynecologist.

But not Emma. She could been seen walking around in slacks and a cardigan buttoned up to her throat. Or one of those long skirts she thought she could hide in. And her hair was always in a bun.

Sting began to frown. He didn't know why but that bun irritated him. It just. . .bugged him.

And though she appeared reserved, maybe even a little cool, she wasn't mean. She was down right nice if what he saw between her and Abyss, of all people, was any indication.

He had caught the animosity between her and Bischoff when he had stepped into the office. It was clear that she didn't like the guy. Which only made her smart in his book.

So why was she working for him?

His lips pursed as he pondered that question. Yeah, she was definitely a tough nut to crack.

He started to smirk at that word. Nut. That was what they called him nowadays. And maybe he was. Maybe Bischoff and the rest of his jackals had finally pushed him over the edge. Who was to say?

He straightened and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't even know anymore.

His eyes slowly traveled back to his little surprise and he began to chuckle, thinking about what was going to happen.

It was gonna be a gas.


	2. Part Two: Paint the Town Red

Emma stood backstage that night, watching on the monitors as Eric and Immortal took over the ring. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as they clapped themselves on the back and threw their weight around by assigning near impossible matches for the other wrestlers.

Eric grinned, the very picture of arrogance, as he went on, "And you, Stinger. You coward."

The smile left him, instead being replaced with a sneer, "You no good son-of-a-bitch. How dare you barge into my office and make demands! How dare you try and tell me what to do with my own company! That's right, Stinger. _My_ company. And it will always be _my _company! And another thing-"

Whatever else Eric was about to say was cut off as the lights in the Impact Zone suddenly went out. The fans began to cheer, some of them chanting Sting's name.

Emma leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she tried to see anything on the monitor. It was impossible. There was nothing but darkness. Giving up, she stepped back.

And backed into someone.

She quickly turned around and gasped slightly.

Sting looked down at her and grinned, "It's Showtime!"

And with that he took off down for the ring.

Emma focused her attention back on the monitor, apprehension welling up inside her as she waited. Whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be good.

Suddenly the lights came back and on there was Sting in the middle of the ring with his trademark baseball bat.

Before Immortal could do anything about it Sting started hitting them left and right. Bam! There went Bully Ray. Bam! Gunner was sent flying out of the ring. Bam! Scott Steiner fell to his knees. Bam! Jeff Jarrett went down like a sack of potatoes.

Sting turned around to find Eric cowering behind Karen Jarrett. She had her hands raised and offered a weak smile, begging for Sting to leave her alone. Sting took hold of Karen's arm and moved her out of the way. Now there was nobody standing between him and Eric.

Eric continued to cower in the corner, hands raised in surrender. He was stammering something but Emma couldn't hear him over the cheers of the crowd.

Sting took hold of Eric's hair and brought him out to the center of the ring. He straightened the smaller man and patted him on the back, grinning and saying something inaudible.

Eric looked up at him in worry, no quite sure what to think. But Sting made no move towards him. He just continued to pat the other man on the back. Eric's body started to relax as he began to let his guard down.

And it was at that moment that Sting punched in him the stomach. Before Bischoff could go down, though, Sting had him turned around and he gave him the Scorpion Death Drop right in the center of the ring.

Unexpectedly the lights went out again.

Emma watched with wide eyes, her hand to her mouth. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. And she couldn't help the tiny feeling of joy that came over her at seeing Eric get his.

The lights came back on and there laid Eric and Immortal, still dazed. Gunner climbed back into the ring as the rest of the faction staggered to their feet.

"Hey, Bishoff! Hey, Eric! Over here!" Sting's voice called out over the arena.

Immortal turned to the large monitor positioned over the ramp. There was Sting, laughing down at them.

"I don't know about you," he leaned in close to the camera, his eyes growing, "But I feel like painting the town red. Whaddya say?"

Instantly red paint descended from the ceiling to cover Bischoff and the rest of Immortal. The force of it was so great that it actually sent Eric to the canvas. The rest of Immortal tried to get out of the ring but they only ended up slipping and falling. Jeff crashed into Karen and both husband and wife fell onto their butts, Karen screaming like a banshee and trying in vain to get the red paint off of her.

Emma found herself smiling, thinking that it couldn't have happened to a nicer group of people.

She looked over her shoulder and saw a few of the wrestlers and crew watching the monitors and roaring with laughter.

She turned back to the screen and her smile immediately died. Eric had staggered to his feet, a dark look in his eyes. He was beyond enraged.

Seeing his expression instantly caused Emma to sober, dread beginning to tighten her chest. She knew Eric was going to take this out on someone. She just didn't know who.

"Boy is his face red." Sting's face suddenly appeared on her shoulder. He looked over at the monitor and laughed maniacally, "Actually so are his arms, his legs, his-'

Emma ducked away, spinning around to face him. She crossed her arms and glared up at him, shaking her head.

"Why did you have to provoke him?" she accused, "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Sting pretended to think about it, rubbing his chin in feint deep thought.

"It was stupid." Emma argued, unimpressed with his childlike antics, "You've embarrassed him and now he's going to take it out on someone. Maybe even you. But you didn't you didn't think about that, did you?"

She threw up her hands in disgust and scoffed, "But what do you care so long as you get to play your idiotic jokes, right?"

"Sting! Sting, you freak!" Eric's voice screamed out from the monitor.

The pair turned to see that Bischoff had managed to get to his feet and was gripping the microphone tightly in his hand. He was furious.

"You've got a two-on-one match tonight with Bully Ray and Gunner!" Eric snarled, "I hope they tear you apart, you son-of-a-bitch!"

Surprisingly Sting appeared unafraid.

He turned back to Emma and smirked, "Guess the guy just can't take a joke, huh?"

And with that he actually bounded away, completely unaffected by Eric's announcement.

Emma could only shake her head. He was certifiable. Absolutely insane.

Eric and Immortal came storming backstage, red faced by more than just the paint. Bischoff spied AJ Styles and Matt Morgan snickering to one another. They spotted him but appeared unapologetic.

"You think this is funny?" he accused the two wrestlers. "Huh? You think this is all a big joke?"

AJ smirked as Matt shrugged, "It made me laugh."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it." Eric laughed coldly, "You want to know what I'm going to enjoy? I'm going to enjoy watching you two in a match tonight. Against Scott Steiner. And Abyss. And it's going to be a tables match."

AJ and Matt quickly sobered, glaring at Bischoff.

Eric started to make his way down the hall when he spotted a crew member making their way from the opposite direction.

It was Jack. He was in his late fifties and what with his round belly and snow white hair and beard he had affectionately earned the nickname "Santa". He certainly had the jolly attitude to match.

Eric blocked the man's path and growled, "How long have you been here,, Jack?"

"About seven years." Jack answered evenly. He couldn't stand the egotistical little dictator but he knew to keep his feelings to himself.

"And you've been head of the stage crew for how long?" Eric demanded to know.

"About five years." Jack told him slowly, suspicious of where the line of questions were going.

"So let me ask you this," Bischoff's voice began to gain volume with every word he spoke, "How is it you can be head of the stage crew for _five years_ and not notice when someone puts paint up in the damned rafters!"

Before Jack could even speak Eric cut him off by jabbing his finger into the other man's belly and yelling, "You're fired!"

The backstage had gone silent during the tirade. So silent that everyone was able to hear the few gasps of alarm that came from the others over the horrible news.

Emma was stunned. Eric had just fired Jack of all people? Her surprise quickly gave way to anger as she turned away and shook her head in disgust. Unbelievable! He hadn't done anything wrong!

"Emma!" Bischoff's voice cut through the silence like a whip.

Emma quickly spun around to find Eric glaring over at her. Panic welled up inside her and she began to pray that she wasn't next on the chopping block.

_Please, please don't do this,_ she silently begged, _Please._

"Go get some towels and soap and water or paint remover or whatever and get this damned paint off!" Eric snapped.

Emma promptly spun on her heels and hurried off, more angry over what had been done to Jack than Eric's demands.

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It had taken some time, but she had finally finished her task. Immortal, as well as the ring, were now free from red paint.

She made her way out of the back entrance door, a plastic bag full of ruined towels in her hands. She rounded the corner, meaning to throw them away in the nearby dumpster. But she drew to a stop when she caught sight of Sting and Jack up ahead.

Though he was still donning his Insane Icon face paint Sting appeared to be very serious as he spoke to the older man.

"I'm sorry about what happened, Jack." he told him with a frustrated sigh, "I never expected Bischoff to take what I did out on you."

"Hey don't worry about it, Steve." Jack shook his hand and gave him a good natured smile, "It's not your fault Bischoff is a little weasel with a Napoleon complex."

"This isn't over." Sting assured him, vehement, "I promise you, _I promise you_, that you are going to get your job back. Things are going to change around here. I promise you."

He pulled out a slip of paper and a pen, jotting something down, "If you need anything you give me a call. I mean it. Anything."

Emma's hand found its way to her heart as she watched the scene. She had to admit, she was touched by what Sting was doing for Jack.

_Maybe the Clown Prince has a heart and conscious after all_, she thought in wonder.

Sting handed Jack the paper and shook his hand again. They told each other goodbye and Jack turned, climbing into his truck which was sitting nearby. It roared to life a few seconds later and Jack pulled out of the parking lot.

Sting waved after him until he was gone from view. Once he was gone his hand dropped and his shoulders slumped slightly. Angrily he kicked at a nearby rock and turned around to head back into the building.

He looked up and came to a stop as he spotted Emma. She had been watching him with a frown, but that frown quickly gave way to something like guilt as she realized that she had been spotted.

The young woman quickly dropped her eyes as she began to fiddle with the plastic bag in her small hands.

Sting began to make his way over to her and Emma noticed that the Insane Icon wasn't present. The man advancing on her was very serious.

At his somber demeanor Emma instantly felt nervous. The Insane Icon she could handle. Well, maybe just barely. But a serious Sting? That was unnerving to her.

Sting stopped before her, again a little too close for her liking. Emma found herself taking a step back and silently cursing herself, and him, for letting him intimidate her.

"Are you going to go running to your boss and tell him what I just told Jack?" he asked quietly.

Yeah, she was definitely nervous now. Yelling and raging she could deal with. But with him quiet like that, all tight control and leashed emotions. No, no that was definitely more frightening to her.

She actually had to take a moment to find her courage before she could speak.

"No." she told him honestly, "Why should I? It's none of mine, or Eric's, business if you tell Jack goodbye."

Sting blinked, a little thrown by that. He was also surprised by the twinge of pride he felt come over him.

_Good girl_, he thought, _Good answer._

He instantly slipped back into joker mode as his expressions and voice became exaggerated, "Well I better go get ready. Got a little match I need to go take care of."

He laughed and began to bound back into the building.

Emma watched after him for a moment before she found herself calling after him, "Sting?"

Sting stopped and turned back to her, grinning wildly, "Yeeeees?"

"I. . ." Emma glanced down at her hands as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say to him.

She finally looked up at him, sincere, "Be careful."

Sting's grin widened as he promised, "Enjoy the show."

He unexpectedly started making his way back to her. Emma looked up at him in worry, as she was unable to read his face. But she didn't move. She felt frozen on the spot.

"One more thing." he murmured and suddenly reached behind her.

She felt him grab her clip and once more remove it, taking her hair down.

She closed her eyes and sighed in irritation, "I just put my hair back up."

"And I just took it back down." Sting replied, larger-than-life, before handing her the clip, "Ta ta for now."

And with that he was gone.

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Sting ducked under the clothesline Bully Ray almost hit him with. He came off the ropes and nailed the other wrestler with one of his own. Bully hit the canvas, dazed.

Emma watched on one of the monitors from backstage, hand to her throat and her eyes wide with worry.

She started to smile excitedly when Sting went for the pin. But she groaned as Gunner jumped into the ring and hit Sting on the back to break the count.

Sting got to his feet and turned to face the other wrestler, he and Gunner having words as the ref tried to make Gunner go back onto the apron. While that was going on Bully appeared to get his bearings and rise to his feet. He took off for Sting.

"No." Emma gasped, "No, Sting, look out!"

But it was too late. Bully hit Sting in the back, causing the other man to fall to one knee. Bully used that opportunity to pick him up and send him into the ropes. Gunner shoved the ref aside and hurried to Bully's side, the pair meaning to hit Sting as he came back to them.

But as he came running back he ducked under their outstretched arms and hit the ropes on the other side. As he came back Sting grabbed them both by the back of the head and slammed them to the mat.

Bully groaned and rolled away, falling off the apron onto the floor below.

Sting ignored him and turned his attention onto Gunner. Grabbing the man by the back of the head he brought him to his feet. But Gunner had a sudden burst of energy because he kicked Sting in the stomach.

Sting grunted and hunched over, trying to get his breath. Bully Ray slipped back into the ring at that moment, now holding a chair. The ref tried to take the chair away but Bully hit him, causing the smaller man to hit the canvas with a thud.

Gunner straightened and grabbed Sting, turning him around and holding his arms back. He yelled for Bully Ray to hit him with the chair.

Emma's other hand flew to her throat as she watched the monitor with wide eyes. She shook her head, fear coursing through her body.

"Please don't." she whispered, terrified, "Please don't."

Bully began to grin evilly as he raised the chair. His eyes were filled with bloodlust as he started to bring the deadly weapon down.

Suddenly Sting got loose and rolled away. Gunner had no time to move and the chair went crashing onto his head, knocking him out.

Bully quickly raised the weapon, alarmed over what had happened. He was frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. He began to look up the ramp, as though waiting for something or someone. He turned his attention back to Gunner, calling out to see if he was okay.

Unexpectedly, Sting was back in the ring, his bat in his hand. He came up behind Bully and slammed the bat onto the chair, causing it to fly out of Bully's hands.

Bully's eyes widened in fear and he slowly turned around. But he had no time to react as Sting drove the end of the bat right into the other man's gut.

Bully fell back and rolled out of the ring. Gripping his stomach he hurried up the ramp, making sure to keep an eye on Sting the whole time.

Gunner began to come to and he blinked, looking around in wonder. Sting took notice of him and his expression became exaggerated as he slipped back into joker mode.

He swung the bat around, calling to Gunner. Gunner finally realized what was going on and he quickly rolled out of the ring, staggering away.

Sting's theme music began to play out over the arena as Sting leaned over the ring ropes and motioned for Bully and Gunner to come back into the ring, a maniacal grin on his face.

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Sting made his way through the backstage area shortly after the match, still keyed up from what had just happened.

His blood was racing and his energy was high. Given the chance he would have gone back in there and continued to mix it up with those two.

As he rounded a corner he ran into Emma. He instantly took hold of her arms to steady her and for once he noticed that she didn't pull away.

She looked up at him in concern and asked, "Are you all right? I saw what Bully and Gunner almost did and I. . ."

Her voice trialed off and she briefly glanced down at the floor before looking back up at him, "I hope you're okay."

"Aw, sweetheart!" Sting exclaimed, pulling her closer, "I didn't know you cared!"

Emma's eyes narrowed and she did pull away from him then. She promptly ducked around him and continued on up the corridor, calling over her shoulder in irritation, "I don't know why I even bother."

Sting watched after her, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. He didn't know why he always gave her a hard time.

No, that wasn't completely true. He did know why. He didn't understand why she was working for Bischoff. Nobody needed a job that badly.

He knew she had integrity. He had seen sparks of it time and time again from her. He just didn't get why she didn't use it. It frustrated him.

He ran a hand through his hair, thoughtful. Maybe he was wrong about her. Maybe she was just like Bischoff and the rest of his cronies.

He intended to find out.


	3. Part Three: Unlikely Enemies

Emma made her way though a trendy boutique, a shopping bag on her arm. It was her day off and she decided to treat herself to a little retail therapy. It was silly, but actually did wonders for her esteem and mood.

She spotted a few cute tops and she walked over to the rack to look at them. While doing so she looked up and noticed Tara and Brooke Tessmacher standing a few feet away. They, too, were clothes shopping.

The two Knockouts glanced over, finally spotting her. They smiled brightly and waved. Emma returned the gesture and walked over to them.

"Hi." she greeted them warmly, nodding to their shopping bags, "Are you guys buying out the store, too?"

Tara laughed, lifting her bag, "Trying to. There are too many good sales to pass up."

"I know, right?" Emma agreed, adding, "I think I spent my monthly clothing budget in just under an hour."

She glanced over, noting that Brooke was staring at her with something akin to confusion. She instantly felt self-conscious and glanced down at her jeans and camisole, making sure she wasn't having a wardrobe malfunction of some kind. But everything looked in place.

"What's wrong?" she finally asked with a nervous smile.

Brooke shook her head, "Nothing. It's just that you look really pretty. Why don't you wear stuff like that at the IZ? You know, instead of your nun wear."

"Brooke." Tara chastised her for being blunt.

"It's okay." Emma assured them with a good-natured laugh before adding knowingly, "You're forgetting Eric Bischoff is my boss."

"So." Brooke shrugged, "I can tell you from personal experience that it doesn't matter what you wear. Eric will hit on you regardless."

Emma grew thoughtful at that. Well she did have a point. It seemed like no matter how much she covered up it didn't deter Bischoff one bit.

"I'll think about it." Emma replied at last, "Hey, have you guys heard anything more about Jack?"

"Actually we wanted to ask you the same thing." Tara replied, "We were hoping Eric had changed his mind. I mean, I know it's Eric so it's a long shot but still. . ."

"No." Emma shook her head, annoyed and sad over the situation, "No, Eric hasn't said anything about bringing Jack back. Sorry."

"It's just so unfair." Brooke sighed, "Jack's a sweetheart. And he didn't even do anything wrong."

'Yeah, well," Tara replied with a frown, "Bischoff can't get to Sting so he has to take it out on someone else."

"Speaking of Sting," Emma spoke up, a little hesitant, "Does he make you guys nervous?"

"Not really." Tara shrugged as Brooke nodded, "A little, I guess. Why?"

"Nothing." Emma glanced down at her shopping bag, "He just. . .I don't know. He just makes me jumpy, is all."

"He never used to be that way." Tara explained, "Bischoff and Immortal must have finally pushed him over the edge."

"There's only so much the guy can take." Brooke agreed.

"So you think his insane act is legit?" Emma questioned, "You don't think it's just Sting playing mind games?"

That gave the pair reason to pause, both contemplating the question.

"It could be." Tara replied slowly as she thought it over, "Sting is a master at that kind of thing. But if it's not. . ."

Emma nodded, getting the point.

Regardless of if it was Sting playing mind games or he had really gone around the bend, she was going to stay away from him. She already had too much to deal with and she didn't want to add the Insane Icon's unwanted attention to her growing list of problems.

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She got ready for work early the next day. As she did so she look Brooke's words to heart. And while she was wearing one of her long skirts she had put one of her favorite camisoles with it. Coupled with just a little make up.

If she was going to have to go into that war zone she was going to go in feeling a little more comfortable. Or at least a little more like herself.

Emma reached for her hair clip, meaning to put her hair into it's usual bun when she paused. She bit her lip, staring at her reflection in silent question. After thinking it over she placed the clip back on the counter.

"I'm not doing this because he said my hair looks better down." she told her reflection, "I just don't want to have to deal with him taking my hair down again. That's all."

She quickly shut off the bathroom light, grabbed her purse and keys and stepped out of her apartment.

Emma walked through the quaint, yet beautiful courtyard, to the parking lot and hopped into her adrk purple jeep. It was soon roaring to life and she began to make the twenty minute drive to the IZ.

As soon as she got there she cut off the engine and hopped out of the car, hurrying into the building.

She passed by some of the crew and a few of the wrestlers. A couple of them did a double take, some of them even telling her hello. Emma gave them smiles and waves but didn't stop to talk.

She stepped into Eric's office and picked up her clipboard, going over the tasks for that day.

"You have a Skype meeting after the show with a reporter from _WrestlePro Magazine_." she stated, looking over Bischoff's itinerary, "He said it would be short. I'm guessing twenty-to-thirty minutes at the most."

When she didn't receive a reply she looked up to find Eric sitting at his desk, openly leering at her.

"Well, well, well." he murmured as his eyes raked over her, "Isn't this a nice surprise. All dressed up for me, Emma?"

"No." Emma muttered flatly, "I just figured what was the point. You're going to hit on me no matter what I wear. I might as well be comfortable, at least."

"If you're looking for comfortable," Eric murmured as he rose from his seat and made his way around the desk, "I can make you comfortable. _Very _comfortable."

"Stop right there." Emma ordered, pointing her finger at him, "You know, I may have to work for you but I'm not going to listen to your sleazy come-ons any more. It ends now, Eric. I mean it."

Eric leaned against the back of his desk, crossing his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. He began to snicker at her, completely unaffected by her words.

"If you want to quit, Emma, go ahead. There's the door." he reminded her with a chuckle, "But just remember what you'll be giving up."

Everything in Emma went still as realization hit her. She actually began to shake ever so slightly as helplessness and anger came over her.

He was right. She could leave any time she wanted but the cost to do so was too great. He had her trapped and he knew it. She really had no choice but to stay.

"Now go get me a coffee." Eric snickered as he added, "Cream and sugar, okay, cupcake?"

Emma turned and made her way out of the office, feeling defeated. Whatever strength

she had come in with was now gone. Done and dusted with only vulnerability remaining.

She walked over to Catering and poured Bischoff a cup of coffee. She added cream and sugar to the beverage before she paused, staring down at it. If she were a different kind of person she would have added a little something else to his coffee.

But unfortunately she wasn't. Darn it.

She turned and started to exit the room when she bumped into Abyss. Instantly she felt her mood brighten and she smiled warmly up at him.

"Hi, Chris." she greeted him with affection, "Good luck on your match tonight against Mr. Anderson. I'll be rooting for you."

"Thanks." he murmured, his eyes falling to the coffee, "That for Bischoff?"

"Unfortunately." Emma sighed but her smile soon returned, "Anyway, I better get it back to him. Can't keep the dictator waiting, can we?"

Abyss gave her a hint of a smile before moving from the doorway and allowing her to pass.

As she made her way back to Eric's office she was surprised to see him already out in the hall. He was standing there with Jeff, Gunner and Scott, going over a few things.

He noticed her approach and snapped, "About time you came back with my coffee."

Emma handed it to him, fighting not to say something she knew she'd regret.

Eric took a drink of it and nodded, "Not bad."

He began to chuckle to the guys, "I bet she really cooks in bed, too."

Immortal started laughing and Emma had to turn away in disgust. She swore if he said one more thing to her. . .

"Eric! Eric!" Bully Ray came running down the hall, muscling in between the guys to stand in front of the Impact owner, "Sting is down at ringside and he's calling you out. You want Gunner and Steiner here to go take care of him?"

"No." Eric replied, the wheels in his mind turning, "No. I wanna know what he wants. Let's go."

They started to head off when Eric came jogging back. Unexpectedly he took hold of Emma, dragging her towards the ring.

Emma began to struggle, trying to free herself from his grasp. She dug her heels in, fighting to stay where she was.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to pull free.

"You're coming with me." Eric told her, yanking her back to his side.

"Why?" Emma challenged as he continued to drag her.

"Because I said so." Eric snapped, "Now shut up and come on."

Emma glared up at him as disbelief. What did he have up his sleeve now?

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"Come on, Eric!" Sting was leaning against the ring ropes, calling up the ramp, "I know you're back there, I can smell you all the way from here!"

Immortal's music started playing, causing Sting to grin. He began to bounce around the ring, the red blood cells beginning to pump through his veins.

Oh, this was good! His body was humming with energy; he could feel it running through him like lava. He felt so alive!

Jeff, Gunner, Scott and Bully Ray began to make their way through the curtain. Sting grinned at he watched them appear but his smile slowly faded as he noticed Eric follow behind with Emma.

Two things hit him at that moment. One, it appeared that Eric was dragging her along. He came to a stop but didn't release his hold on her arm. She tried to yank free from his grip but it did no good. The only thing she could do was scowl up at Eric.

Sting's eyes narrowed at that. He didn't like seeing any woman manhandled and the fact that it was Emma bothered him even more.

Two, she looked different. Gone were her buttoned up sweaters and slacks. And her hair was flying free around her shoulders and down her back.

Sting's lips pursed. She looked good. Very good. He had often wondered what she would look like if she let herself go and he had to admit it was better than he had imagined.

He was kind of disappointed that he couldn't take her hair down again, though. The truth was he enjoyed bothering her that way.

He put those thoughts aside and got back to the business at hand as he once more leaned on the ring ropes, "Four-for-one sale tonight, Eric? I ask for you and you come down with the four stooges?"

He waved, his grin widening, "Hi, stooges."

His eyes landed on Emma and he called out happily, "And look, you brought me a gift!"

Emma's eyebrows rose in surprise. A gift? Is that what she was? She looked back and forth between Sting and Eric, exasperated. Of all the nerve. . .

"They're family. And family sticks together." Eric told him, "With a nut like you running around I needed a little extra security."

"Aw, gee, thanks." Sting beamed.

"Yeah, ha ha." Eric deadpanned, "Everything is just a joke to you anymore, right, Stinger? Of course, I always knew you were the joke."

Emma bit her lip and looked nervously between Sting and Eric. Though Sting still had that crazy grin on his face she didn't think it was wise for Eric to provoke him. There was no telling what he might do.

"I'm a busy man; I have a company to run," Eric went on, "I don't have time to waste on a freak like you. What do you want?"

"Do we have to go through this again, Eric?" Sting replied, "It's easy. I want Dixie's company restored to her. I want you and the rest of your gaggle of jackals out of here. I want to drop you on your head. And, of course, I want world peace."

His eyes once more flicked over to Emma and he added, "And while we're at it, I'll take the little brunette there, too."

He grinned down at her, "Yeah you, sweetheart."

Emma scoffed and turned away in disgust.

Eric grinned and pulled Emma closer, "You're not even worth my time. Face it, you're nothing, Sting. You have no stroke. I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with you."

Sting backed up to the center of the ring and clutched at his chest, appearing wounded, "Ow. Ow, Eric. That hurts. That really hurts me."

He paused, pondering something. He slowly began to smile, "Stroke. What would I need to give me stroke? That little extra something that would help me in getting Dixie's company back for her?"

He suddenly jumped in the air, "I got it! I got it! That thing I called you down here for. I remember now."

Sting returned to his position against the ring ropes and smirked, "Yeah, I remember now. You see, I'm going to challenge Mr. Anderson for the World Championship. And when I win that will give me just a little bit more. . .what did you call it? Stroke. And that'll get me one step closer to giving the company back to it's rightful owner Dixie Carter."

"You can't do that!" Eric screamed into the mic, enraged, "You don't have the authority to give yourself a title match!"

"Oh," Sting turned to the nearest camera and looked into it, eyes wide, "But I do."

He turned back to Eric and grinned, "You're forgetting about that little thing called the network, Eric. And the network, well, they don't like you. And they've given me an opportunity to face Mr. Anderson at Hardcore Justice in a couple of months."

Something clicked in Eric's mind and he began to laugh. Immortal stared at one another, and him, in confusion. Emma looked up at Eric, her eyes narrowed in thought. What did he have up his sleeve?

Sting looked out at the crowd and mused, "Well I didn't think it was that funny, but why not?"

And he began to laugh.

Eric's chuckling subsided, but he continued to smirk, "Keep laughing, Stinger. Keep laughing. But you won't be laughing so hard when I tell you that your little plan to face Mr. Anderson at Hardcore Justice just got a kink thrown into it. Because, you see, Jeff Jarrett is the number one contender and he's going to face Mr. Anderson at Hardcore Justice."

Jeff began to grin as the rest of Immortal clapped him on the back and shook his hand.

Sting's smile didn't falter, though. In fact, he seemed to laugh even harder. It got to the point where he became downright hysterical.

Emma watching him with concern, worried that he might have actually gone completely around the bend. He had just been told that he wasn't getting his shot and instead of being mad it made him laugh? She found she could only shake her head in confusion.

Eric's smirk began to fade as he grew more and more infuriated with Sting's laughter.

"Shut up!" he finally snapped, "Shut up, you freak! Don't you get it? You lose! You're not getting your shot!"

Sting's laughter subsided into chuckling and he wiped at his eyes, "Oh, Eric! You are hilarious!"

His chuckling died away and he slowly began to grow serious. Gone was the Insane Icon and in his place was someone more dangerous.

"You're not listening, Eric." Sting told him, "I said the network is giving me an opportunity to face Mr. Anderson. See they know all about Jeff being your number one contender. And that's why they're giving me the chance to face him at Destination X next week for the shot at being the number one contender.

"And then I'm going to go on to Hardcore Justice and beat Mr. Anderson." he went on, "And then I'll become World Champion. And then I'll do everything in my power to get you out of Impact and get the company back for Dixie."

He began to laugh again, "Now that's funny!"

Immortal blew up at the news. They began to yell among themselves.

Jeff Jarrett ripped off his shades and advanced on Eric, "What is this? What's going on, Eric? You need to fix this and fix it now!"

"Calm down." Eric tried to talk the men down, "Calm down."

He turned his attention back to Sting and once again began to smirk, "You think you pulled one over on us, huh, Stinger?'

"I kinda did, yeah." Sting admitted with beguile.

"Yeah, you think so." something devilish welled up in Eric's eyes, "But I don't think you'll be in any kind of shape to face Jeff at Destination X. Get him!"

Jeff, Bully Ray, Scott and Gunner suddenly took off for the ring. They began to make their way to each side as Sting moved back into the center of the ring. He looked around, but didn't look afraid. In fact, he was once again grinning manically.

Emma bit her lip, fearful of what was going to happen. She began to worry that this time Sting had bitten off more than even he could handle.

The four men climbed up onto the apron. Sting looked back and forth between them thoughtfully.

They climbed between the ropes and stepped into the ring. The four looked at one another and Jeff gave a nod. They instantly went on the attack.

Emma's hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in fear over what was to come.

But before Immortal could reach Sting he quickly removed his baseball bat from his trench coat and began to go on the offensive. He ducked under Scott's forearm and turned around, driving the bat into the bigger man's back. Scott let out a yell and fell to his knees in pain.

Sting sent a kick to Gunner, knocking him to the ground. He followed up with a vicious strike across the middle of his back.

He spun and drove the end of the bat into Bully Ray's gut, causing the man to fall to the canvas in a heap.

To finish it off he hit Jeff across the ribs, sending him to the ground. But he wasn't done there. He dropped the bat and grabbed Jarrett by the hair, pulling him back up. He quickly turned him around and delivered the Scorpion Death Drop, knocking the other man out cold.

Emma couldn't help but be impressed. She had never seen anything so amazing before in her life. It was truly incredible.

She was also surprised by the relief and almost. . .joy she felt at the sight of Sting standing tall in the middle of the ring. Well the relief she could understand. She hated seeing anyone outnumbered and the truth was he hadn't really done anything to her.

But the out and out joy? Where did that come from? It confused her.

Eric began to back up the ramp, eyes widening in fear as Sting picked up the bat and jumped down from the ring and onto the floor.

He began to make his way up the ramp. As he swung the bat around he called out, "Hey, Eric! Eric, wanna play? Come on, Eric, I wanna play."

Bischoff took a fearful step back, his eyes never leaving the bat. When Sting was only a few feet from him Eric suddenly grabbed a hold of Emma and yanked her in front of him. The young woman began to struggle, her eyes widening in fright as she looked at Sting approaching.

"Stay right there." Eric commanded weakly, his voice breaking.

Sting drew to a stop and pointed at him with the bat, slapping his knee and laughing.

"Come on, Bischoff!" he grinned at the other man, "Do you think I won't go through her to get to you?"

Emma stopped struggling, his words hitting her like a bucket of ice water. She was taken aback, angry and most of all hurt by his threat.

She couldn't believe it. No matter how unstable she thought he was she at least believed he had a shred of nobility in him. Some tiny piece of honor.

Sting began to swing the bat again, laughing, "Come here, Eric! Come here, I wanna talk to you!"

Eric's eyes widened and he began to stammer, "Y-y-you st-st-stay away from m-m-m-me!"

Sting started to advance and Eric suddenly shoved Emma forward. She cried out in surprise as she pitched forward, slamming into Sting's chest. Instantly his arms came around her, holding her upright so that she wouldn't fall. Eric used that opportunity to run back up the ramp and behind the curtain.

Emma looked up at Sting with wide eyes, actually fearful of what he might do to her.

But he made no move to harm her. Instead he grinned down at her and actually began to pet her hair, "Fancy meeting you here, M&M."

Emma blinked, her fear beginning to leave her. Her eyes began to narrow in irritation and she angrily shoved him away.

Sting took a step back, looking around at the crowd. He pointed at Emma and laughed to them. But before Emma could move he was suddenly before her again. He took hold of her hair and brought some of the ends around to tickle her nose.

Emma furiously batted his hand away and spun around, storming back up the ramp. Her face was red with equal parts fury and humiliation.

Sting simply looked after her, laughing.

He noticed a camera fixated on him a few feet away. He walked over to it, looking closely into the lens.

"I guess she just can't take a joke." he said with a phony huff before he started to laugh.

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Emma exited the arena later that night. She was still fuming over what had happened.

_Ugh, the nerve of that jerk!_ she screamed to herself, _Crazy, psychotic. . .To think I actually _worried _about him!_

She continued to think bad thoughts as she angrily stormed across the parking lot and over to her jeep.

She was about ten feet away, though, when she suddenly began to hear whistling. Emma drew to a stop, pausing in confusion.

Someone was actually whistling _Ring Around the Rosie._

A shadow began to move from behind a van parked a few feet away from Emma's jeep. Suddenly Sting casually came walking around it, whistling the nursery rhyme and his hands in his pockets of his black leather trench coat. He drew to a stop as he reached the back of the vehicle and he leaned back against it, crossing his legs at the ankles. He was still dressed in his gear, the Insane Icon face paint still adorning his face.

Emma took a step back before cursing herself. Not again. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her anymore.

Scowling, she stomped over to him. As she drew to a stop before him she placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him.

"So did you have fun tonight?" she asked, sarcastically sweet.

Sting pretended to ponder that, "Hmm, did I have fun tonight?"

He finally nodded, flashing white teeth at her, "A little bit, yeah."

"Yeah, I imagine you would." she nodded her head, disgusted, "I imagine threatening women would be a blast for you. A real belly shaker."

Sting unexpectedly straightened, instantly serious. Emma swallowed hard as he began to walk towards her, but she made no move to back away. Whether it was from a sudden burst of courage or just fear she didn't know which.

He peered down at her, saying nothing for a few moments. But he didn't need to. Emma could feel the tension coming off of him in waves and it made her anxious.

"I wasn't going to hurt you, Emma." he told her, his tone quiet, "I only said what I said because I know Bischoff. I know what a coward he is and I knew he'd shove you into me so he could get away. I was trying to get him to let you go."

Emma paused, letting his words sink in. Was he actually being honest with her for once? He looked like he was telling the truth. And what he said did make sense in hindsight. Could she really believe him. . .?

She slowly began to shake her head, unable to allow herself to fall for his explanation, "No, I don't believe you. You're crazy-"

He lunged at her then, grabbing her upper arms and yanking her to him. Though his grip wasn't hurtful it was firm. He made it clear that he wasn't going to let her go until he wanted to.

"Maybe I am." he muttered in that same hushed tone, "Wanna find out?"

Emma felt a tremor race through her body as she stared up at him in fear. Had she pushed him too far. . .?

She swallowed again, fighting to control her racing heart. She dug down deep, finding the last shred of her courage as she ground out, "Let me go."

Sting just gazed down at her, studying her with some unknown something on his face. He abruptly let her go and Emma staggered back a step or two.

Without a word she carefully maneuvered around him and hurried over to her jeep. Still shaking, she climbed in and slammed the door closed, locking it. She quickly started the vehicle and tore out of the parking lot without a backwards glance.

Sting watched after her, angry at her and himself. Her because she thought he would have hurt her. Sure, he had teased her. Maybe too much. But he had never, would never, hurt her.

He began to make his way back to the arena, his hands once more going into his pockets and his head bowed.

Why did he do it? Why was he always teasing her? He snickered in self disgust. Jeez, he was like that punk kid in school who constantly teased the girl he had a crush on.

He drew to a stop and blinked at that thought. Girl he had a crush on? He shook his head, ruthlessly shoving that thought way. No. No way.

She was pretty, sure. But way too cold for his blood. An ice princess who didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. Heck, she didn't even like the business, let alone love it.

Plus he still wasn't sure where she stood or why she was even there to begin with.

_Who cares_, he thought at last as he started to walk again.

It wasn't any of his concern why she was there. What did he care so long as she didn't come between him and his plans for Bischoff and Immortal.

Immortal. That was who he should have been focusing all of his energy on. He couldn't let himself get distracted from the task at hand. Things weren't going to change until he got rid of them. And he would. No matter what it took, not matter what he had to do, he would get them out of Impact.

_So get it together, Stinger,_ he told himself, _Forget about the pretty girl and focus on taking out Bischoff_.

But even as he told himself that he could still picture how pretty her eyes were. Especially when she was angry. And he could still feel her silky hair between his fingers. . .

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The week leading up to Destination X had been surprisingly uneventful. And while that should have reassured Emma it only made her more nervous. It was almost like the calm before a storm.

She just didn't know when the storm would hit.

The night of the PPV came and the show went off without a hitch. Eric had been surprisingly civil to her. She was stunned that he hadn't made even one pass at her.

She had eventually chalked it up to his being preoccupied with the show and was sure he would be back to his lecherous self after.

Later on that night, when she had a spare moment, she wandered over to a corner and watched the monitors as Abyss faced Matt Morgan.

Though she had nothing against Matt she did hope Abyss won, if only because of their friendship. And she was thrilled when he did in fact get the pin.

"Emma!" Eric's voice cracked like a whip over the backstage area.

Emma quickly made her way over to him, dread coming over her. She knew it was too good to last.

"Yes?" she questioned cautiously.

"Here." Eric said, handing her a set of keys, "Gunner's truck is in the way and I need you to move it. Park it around the back, in front of the far trailer where it won't be in anyone's way."

Emma took the keys and hurried through the building and out the back. She found the wrestler's truck with ease, parked near the front of the lot.

As she approached it her eyes widened slightly at it's massive size. She worried she'd need a running start just to get into the thing. But as she approached she noticed it had runners and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She quickly climbed inside and started it up, pulling out of the lot. She bit her lip as she maneuvered the massive vehicle through the closed in back area. It felt like she was trying to drive a tank on a mini golf coarse.

It wasn't long before she spotted a lone trailer standing off by itself at the end of the lot. She made her way around a few of the workmen who were working on repairing some of ring equipment, the noise of their power tools clamoring over the otherwise pretty quiet area.

She finally pulled up along the front of the trailer and cut the engine.

Inside the trailer Sting sat on a folding chair. His elbows were on his knees, his head bowed in thought. He had come to the trailer to get himself ready, both by way of dressing and mentally, for his match with Jeff.

His eyes opened as he heard another sound join the ever-present ones of the workmen and his eyes narrowed in curiosity. He rose to his feet and went to the window, watching in surprise as Emma pulled up close along the front of the trailer, in Gunner's truck no less, and cut the engine. She climbed out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut before quickly making her way away from the truck and back towards the arena.

Sting walked over to the door and tried to open it but he felt it hit the side of the truck, only a few inches of space between it and the vehicle.

"Emma!" he called through the crack of the door but Emma kept on walking.

Everything in him went still as disbelief welled up inside him. As he watched her retreating back his skepticism quickly burned away and was replaced with a slow burning rage. She had just trapped him in the trailer.

He began to drive his shoulder against the door again and again in a vain attempt to get it open. It remained stalwart, refusing to budge even an inch.

Sting leaned back against the door and actually began to laugh. From disbelief or hilarity over the situation he didn't know.

No, what he was really laughing at was his own foolish self. He had actually bought her innocent act. He had actually believed she had integrity; that she was naive to Bischoff and Immortal's antics. Well she had shown him, hadn't she?

The laughter died on his lips as he shoved off the door and began to pace the tiny trailer. With each step his fury grew. His eyes darted over the space as he tried to find an alternative way out.

A cold smile came over him. Oh and when he got out. . . He would make them pay. Each and every one of them. His eyes narrowed and his jaw began to tightened.

Especially her.


	4. Part Four: Revenge is Funny Business

Emma walked back into the arena and made her way over to Eric.

"Here are Gunner's keys." she said, handing them back to her boss, "I parked the truck over by that trailer like you wanted. Just tell him to be careful of the workmen when he goes to move it."

"Thanks, cupcake." Eric grinned, "You did a terrific job."

Emma blinked, confused by his joyful compliment, "All I did was park a truck. I mean, sure, I didn't scratch it but it's not a huge feat."

Eric continued to grin as he wandered over to one of the monitors and watched the show. Emma glanced over his shoulder, noting that the ref and Jeff Jarrett were in the middle of the ring. Jeff was yelling for the ref to start counting.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Start counting? The match hadn't even started yet. She scanned ringside, trying to find any sign of Sting, but he was no where to be seen.

The referee hedged, not sure what to do. Eric grew irritated and grabbed a mic, heading out to ringside.

"Start counting, you idiot!" he bellowed to the ref, "Do it!"

The ref let out a sigh and began to count, "One!. . .Two!. . . Three!. . ."

"Where's Sting?" AJ inquired as he and a few of the other wrestlers came over to watch the monitors.

Emma shook her head, wondering the answer to that, herself. She bit her lip, worry beginning to well up inside her. Despite what he had done to her, she hoped he was all right.

"Has anyone seen him?" Mickie James asked the others.

"Not a sign." Crimson replied, "Of course it's Sting. If he doesn't want to be seen. . .well you know."

"Six!" the ref continued.

Emma noted the look of absolute satisfaction on Eric's face and warning bells began to go off in her head.

Her eyes widened in alarm as realization hit her. Oh no! What had she done?

"That cretin!" she cried out and started to make a mad dash towards the back door.

"Seven!" she could hear the ref's voice continue to call and she quickened her pace.

She was almost to the door when it burst open and Sting raced in, baseball bat in hand. He blew passed her and hurried towards the ring. She spun around and watched him, her heart in her throat.

"Eight!" the ref counted as Sting made his way towards the curtain.

"Hurry, Sting, they're counting you out!" AJ warned him as he raced passed.

"Nine!" the ref yelled as Sting ran through the curtain. At the sight of him the crowd began to go wild, cheering and yelling for him to hurry.

Emma raced back to the monitors, watching with wide eyes. Dread came over her and she closed her eyes as, just before he reached the ring, the ref counted to ten.

"No!" the wrestlers groaned and began to protest.

Emma turned away, running her hands through her hair. This was all her fault!

"You're too late, Stinger!" Eric crowed, "You can forget about facing Mr. Anderson at Hardcore Justice."

"Yes!" Mr. Anderson cheered, raising his arms up in relief.

The other wrestlers glared at him but he didn't care. The last thing he wanted was to face the Insane Icon.

Sting stormed into the ring and Jeff and the ref quickly jumped out. Livid, he grabbed the mic and glared at Eric.

"Yeah, you really got me, huh, Eric!" he laughed coldly, "You and that sweet little assistant of yours."

Emma cringed and nervously glanced at the wrestlers. They were looking at her, some perplexed, some distrustful.

"That was a smart move," Sting went on, "Having Emma park Gunner's truck in front of my trailer so I couldn't get out. Real smart move."

Mickie gasped and the wrestlers began to talk amongst themselves.

"I didn't know." Emma tried to tell them, "Honestly, I had no idea."

"Yeah, right." James Storm scoffed, disgusted.

"Yeah, it was pretty good, huh?" Eric snickered, "How does it feel, Stinger? Knowing that everything you wanted just got flushed down the toilet?"

"It feels about as bad as I'm going to make you feel when I get my hands on you." Sting grinned, "And I am coming for you, Bischoff."

Eric swallowed, visibly nervous. He quickly slipped back behind the curtain and made his way through the backstage area.

Emma saw him blow passed and she was about to follow when James, AJ and a few of the other wrestlers moved in on her, blocking her exit.

"Congratulations," Chris Sabin said sarcastically, "You had us all fooled."

Emma raised her hands and shook her head, "No, you don't understand. I didn't-"

"Man, and here I was feeling sorry for you." AJ interrupted, angry, "But you're just like the rest of them. No, you're worse. Cause you made everyone think you were some kind of innocent victim."

Gail Kim and Madison Rayne walked off, laughing hysterically over the situation.

Emma felt a hand on her shoulder and the wrestlers instantly backed off, walking away. She looked behind her and found Abyss standing there, glaring at their retreating backs.

"I didn't know, Chris." she told him earnestly, "Really. I had no idea."

"I know." he said quietly, "I believe you."

Relief came over Emma at that moment. At least someone believed her. It made her feel just a tiny bit better.

Devon and Tara approached her at that moment. Abyss released her shoulder and came to stand in front of her, acting as a sort of protector. Tara swallowed uneasily and Devon raised his hands.

"It's okay, big man." he tried to assure the behemoth.

He turned his attention to Emma and asked, "Are you telling the truth? You didn't know Sting was in that trailer?"

"I didn't know!" Emma cried, her frustration rising, "Devon, I had no idea. Eric told me to go park Gunner's truck by the trailer, so it would be out of the way. And I did. I had no clue Sting was in the trailer."

Devon studied her for a few moments before finally nodding, "Okay. I believe you."

"I do, too." Tara agreed, "I don't think you would knowingly do something like that."

"Thank you." Emma sighed, frowning, "But what do I do now? I mean, everyone thinks I did this on purpose. Sting lost the match and lost the right to challenge Mr. Anderson. Everything is all screwed up and it's all my fault."

"Don't count Sting out yet." Devon tried to reassure her, "If I know him he's got something up his sleeve."

"I hope so." Emma sighed, feeling like dirt.

Tara gave her a hug and she and Devon walked off. Abyss once again clasped her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She looked up at him, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

"This is all my fault." was the only thing she could think to say.

"No it's not." Abyss told her, "Blame Bischoff and Immortal. They did this. Not you."

"Yeah, sure." Emma muttered, but she didn't believe it.

Abyss gave her a friendly pat on the back and walked off.

Emma leaned back against the wall, her mind racing. How could she be so _stupid_? She should have known that Eric was up to no good. Move Gunner's truck because it was in the way? God, what a ridiculous story! How could she not see that something was wrong there?

She surged off the wall and stalked to Eric's office. Without bothering to knock she charged right in.

Finding her boss sitting at his desk, hands behind his head and a huge grin on his lips, Emma stormed over to the desk and slammed her hands onto the surface. She glared down at Eric heatedly.

"Ah, there's the woman of the hour." Eric looked like he was on cloud nine, "Job well done, cupcake."

Emma scoffed, disgusted, "If I had known why you wanted me to move Gunner's truck I never would have done it."

"Don't kid yourself, Emma." Eric replied with a knowing smirk, "You would have done exactly what I told you to do, because you know what would happened if you didn't."

Emma shoved away from his desk, not able to stomach even being a few feet from him. She crossed the room, glowering at the far wall.

She heard Eric rise from his chair and it wasn't long before he was standing behind her. She cringed inward, everything in her screaming for her to leave. But she remained rooted to the spot, feeling helpless and angry.

"If doesn't have to be this way, Emma." Eric tried to cajole her, "Think of how much easier things would be if you didn't fight me."

"Forget it." Emma hissed, glaring at him from over her shoulder.

"At least think about the perks." Eric murmured as he leaned down, his warm breath against her ear.

Emma recoiled and pulled away from him. She spun around to face him and snapped, "I don't care about your so called 'perks', Eric."

"Not even this?" Eric walked over to his desk and retrieved an envelope.

Smiling slyly, he handed it to her.

Emma looked at him in distrust, slowly taking the envelope from him. She glanced down at it hesitantly before opening it.

As she read the contents she turned to him and smiled coldly, "A spa visit? Really? You think you can buy me off with a trip to a spa?"

"Call it a thank you." Eric murmured.

"You're not welcome." Emma shoved the envelope back at him.

Eric began to tap it against the palm of his hand, the wheels in his mind turning.

"I'll take off six months." he said at last, grinning.

Emma paused, contemplating. On one hand, she was appalled that he thought he could buy her off. Not to mention she was disgusted over the idea that he thought a trip to a spa would make her feel all right about helping to screw over Sting. Did the man have absolutely no morals?

But on the other hand, six months. . .It wasn't much, but still it got her that much closer to her goal.

She closed her eyes and sighed, hating herself even as she spoke, "Fine. I'll go."

"I knew you'd see it my way." Eric practically hummed as he handed her back the envelope, "Enjoy the trip."

She started to take the envelope back when he suddenly yanked it, and her, forward. They were mere inches apart.

"Let it be an example to you, Emma." his eyes raked over her face, "Of just how good I can make your time here."

Emma's eyes constricted but she held her tongue. She snatched the envelope out of his hand and stormed out of the office.

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That weekend she found herself at the Palm Sands Health Spa in Miami, Florida.

As she laid facedown on the massage table, wrapped in only a towel, she couldn't help but wonder why, again, she was there.

This was supposed to be a place where one went to relax. To feel cleansed both inside and out. But all she felt at that moment was dirty. Dirty and disgusted. Mainly with herself.

Six months wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the price of her soul. Even if it gave her a little more time, would it really matter in the long run? She would still feel disappointed in herself.

She was just about to get up and get dress to leave when she heard the door open. She promptly settled back against the table, instantly feeling insecure.

"Um, hi." she called out, her voice betraying just how anxious she felt.

"Hello, dearie." an effeminate male voice greeted her, "How are you this afternoon?"

"A little nervous." Emma admitted and she could feel her cheeks getting hot.

"Why, dearie?" the voice asked, "Never had a massage before?"

"No." Emma offered a weak laugh, "This is my first time. I've never even been to a spa before."

"Oh?" she felt him approach the table, "Well there's nothing to be worried about, sweetie. You just close your eyes, lay back and relax. You leave everything to me."

"Okay." Emma swallowed and closed her eyes.

She tried to force herself to relax but that was a near impossible feat. Especially when she felt him take hold of her towel and lower it to just above her behind. Instantly she began to tense up.

"So this is your first time to a spa." the voice went on, "How nice! Did you win a contest or something?"

"Something like that." Emma frowned as she clarified, "It's actually a. . .a gift from my boss."

"Oh! How nice." the voice went on, "You're so lucky to have such a kind and thoughtful boss."

"I wouldn't exactly describe it that way." Emma found herself muttering.

The figure glanced up at themselves in the mirror that adorned the far wall. Sting stared back at his reflection, a smirk on his lips and something dark shining in his eyes.

He turned his attention to back Emma, staring down at her back. Whatever else he was thinking slowly died away as he found himself studying her.

Her back looked smooth, her skin a nice rosy color. 'Peaches and cream' his mother would have called it. He used to think the term was silly but at that moment he couldn't have thought of a better way to describe it.

She had twin birthmarks, one on either side of her back about an inch or two under her shoulder blades. For some reason he couldn't stop staring at them, almost transfixed.

He also had a strong desire to reach out and trace them with his fingers.

Sting was just about to give in to that temptation when Emma spoke up, hesitant, "Um, I guess I'm ready whenever you are."

He yanked his hand back as though he had been caught trying to steal cookies from the cookie jar. He turned away from her and closed his eyes, berating himself.

_What are you doing_? he demanded to himself, _What's the matter with you? You act like you never seen a pretty girl before. Snap out of it and do what you came here to do!_

He opened his eyes, instantly locking onto his reflection. The eyes that stared back at him narrowed and he at once got back to the business at hand.

Stepping up to her he placed his large hands on her back. Emma instantly shivered, her muscles beginning to tense under his touch.

"I'm sorry." she quickly apologized.

But he barely heard her. He was too engrossed with the silky skin beneath his hands. Lightly he traced his fingers along her back, taking in the soft texture.

Sting swallowed and forced himself to snap out of it. Looking down at her he didn't see a pretty woman. Instead he saw the lying, conniving little vixen who had helped Eric Bischoff screw him out of his chance at Anderson.

Anger began to well up in him as he started to knead the skin, his fingers working over the tense muscles unrelentingly.

Emma flinched at the rough treatment, her muscles tightening even more. As the masseurs ground his palms into her tender flesh she actually let out a gasp of pain.

Sting paused, his hands stilling over her back. Shame washed over him, along with some emotion he didn't want to name, as he heard her cry of hurt.

She did deserve his revenge. And he was going to give it to her. But not that way. The truth was, no matter how bad her crime, no matter how angry he was at her, he didn't want to hurt her psychically. In fact, the idea of doing so made him sick.

"Sorry." he replied softly, his own voice coming through at that moment.

"It's all right." Emma even went so far as to offer a weak laugh, "I'm kind of a wimp. It probably wasn't even that bad."

Sting was surprised she would be so understanding and forgiving. He was sure she would have thrown a fit and stormed out of there.

He just couldn't figure her out. And it was driving him crazier than he already was.

"Well now," he slipped back into his role as the effeminate masseurs, "Let's see if I can't take those nasty aches away."

He placed his hands back on her flesh and felt her tense, preparing herself for more of the rough treatment. He shoved his guilt aside and began to massage her back again, gentler this time.

Emma bit her lip, preparing for more pain, but it didn't come. This time the masseurs hands were soft, tender even in their touch. She slowly found herself relaxing and she closed her eyes. She even began to enjoy what he was doing.

"So tell me about this boss of yours." Sting asked, "He seems like a pretty nice guy to give you such a thoughtful gift."

Emma's eyes opened, something flashing in her mind. Had she said her boss was a man? She must of, she gathered. How else would he have known?

She shook her puzzlement away and replied, "He's. . .It wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, believe me."

"Then why do it?"

Emma bit her lip, debating on whether or not she should speak. She never should have brought it up, she knew. But she couldn't help it. Things were starting to feel so intense; she sometimes felt like the pressure of it was suffocating. She needed to speak, to get her feelings out.

She chose her words carefully as she continued, "It was partly because he was trying to win favors with me."

Sting's hands paused once more, irritated, "And did he?"

"Hardly." Emma scoffed, shaking her head.

For some reason her answer actually made him feel better. It was confusing. Why should he care if Bischoff was able to buy her affection or not? It shouldn't have mattered to him. He was going to make them both pay, regardless.

"You said it was partly because he wanted to get on your good side," he gently prodded, "What was the other reason?"

He felt her tense up again and his hands stilled. He waited a few seconds before continuing with the massage.

"It was. . .a present." Emma murmured bitterly, "A thank you gift."

"For. . .?"

She shook her head and sighed, "Something I didn't deserve to be thanked for."

She didn't say anymore and it was clear she wasn't going to. But Sting had an idea of what she was talking about. He regarded her darkly, the wheels in his mind turning.

_What's the matter, sweetheart_? he asked her silently, _Don't tell me you're feeling guilty. Well you're going to be feeling a lot more than that when I'm through with you._

He backed away from her and headed for the door, calling out, "Well it looks like we're done with the massage. Put on a robe and step into the other room. Once you get into the chair put the cucumber slices on your eyes. I'll be there in a minute."

Emma lifted her head, surprised that the massage was over. She turned to ask him about it but she discovered he was already out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.

She slowly rose to a sitting position and reached for her robe. Once it was on and belted she slipped her feet into her slippers and padded into the other room.

It was a simple room, somewhat small. Sitting the center was what looked like a relaxing chair. Beside it was a small table adorned with a bowl of cucumber slices. Before it was a counter and large mirror, framed with lights.

She took a seat and plucked a few of the slices from the bowl. As she leaned back in the chair she placed the slices onto her closed eyes and sighed, waiting.

She never had understood what the deal was with placing cucumbers on the eyes. Her eyes, and the skin around them, felt cold. And the cucumbers felt weird.

A few moments later the door opened and Sting entering the room. He closed the door quietly and approached the counter, placing a bowl on it. He pulled out a paintbrush and began to stir the contents.

As he did so he looked over at Emma and began to grin evilly. He thought of what was going to happen and it was all he could do not to start laughing.

He finished stirring the bowl and brought it over to the small table.

"Now this will feel a little cold, dearie." he explained as he began to spread the mixture onto her skin, "But that's only because I just took it out of the refrigerator."

"It's fine." Emma assured him, though she did shiver a little from the slight chill of it.

"Now after I finish putting on the facial I'm going to set the timer for twenty minutes." Sting went on, "After that time you can take off the cucumber slices and we can wash your face. Once it's finished you're going to feel like a whole new woman."

_And then some_, Sting chuckled to himself.

Emma sat quietly as he applied the facial. Once it was finished she heard him set a time and go to the door.

"Remember, sit quietly for twenty minutes." he told her, "I'll be back to take it off then."

He looked at her for a few more moments. He almost couldn't contain himself. This was going to be great. His one regret was that he wasn't going to be there to see her reaction. And, oh, what a reaction it was going to be.

Emma heard the door open and close and she sighed, waiting for time to tick down.

After twenty minutes she heard the timer ding and she sat up in the chair. To her surprise she was still alone.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly.

Nothing but silence greeted her.

'Um, is anyone here?"

Again nothing.

Emma removed the cucumbers and sat them in the bowl. It was then that she caught something out of the corner of her eye and she looked towards the mirror.

Her eyes suddenly widened in horror as she gasped in alarm.

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Emma briskly walked into the Impact Zone the next day. As she made her way down the halls she garnered stares from the crew and the wrestlers. Some would look on with wide eyes. Others would nudge the person next to them and point in her director. The worst were the ones who would laugh uproariously at her appearance.

Her eyes narrowed and she bowed her head in humiliation, but she kept going.

_Just let it go, _she tried to tell herself, _There's nothing you can do about it. Just let them laugh._

It wasn't long before she made it to Eric's office. She promptly opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

"About time you got here." Eric muttered as he text from his phone.

He looked up, meaning to say more, but whatever else he was going to say died on his lips as he took in the sight of his assistant.

"What in the hell?" he called out in alarm, "You look ridiculous!"

Emma, her face now stained a stark, bright red, looked at him angrily, "You think?"

"What happened to you?" Eric demanded as he rose from his chair and rounded the desk to lean against the back of it.

"That spa you sent me to." Emma sighed, "Somebody there gave me a facial and I ended up looking like this. The doctor said it wasn't permanent and my skin should be back to normal in a week."

"Well you can't stay here." Eric scoffed, "Go home and hide your face until it's back to normal."

"Eric-" Emma tried to protest, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"You look like freak." her boss snapped, "So go home until it's gone. Then you can come back. Oh, and don't think this week counts, Emma."

Emma's eyes widened as her spirits began to sink. It may have been only a week but it felt like an eternity to her.

Head bowed, defeated, she turned and began to walk towards the door. She was about to open it when it flew open, Sting and camera crew barging in.

She promptly jumped back and tried to duck her head as a way to avoid the camera.

"There they are! The couple of the hour!" Sting all but crowed.

He crossed over to Emma and grabbed a hold of her chin, forcing her to look up, "Get a picture of this, Dave. Look at her! Isn't she stunning!"

Emma tried to pull free from his grasp, but it did no good. She raised her hands to shield her face, mortified. If her face wasn't already stained red she was sure it would be now from the sheer embarrassment alone.

"What's the matter, dearie?" Sting asked her with a painfully familiar effeminate voice, "You never looked better. In fact, I think it's an improvement."

Emma slowly lowered her hands and stared up at him in astonishment.

No, it couldn't be. . .

"That was you?" she gasped.

Sting's maniacal grin was all the answer she needed.

"Didja enjoy the facial, M&M?" he asked with a laugh.

"You fiend!" Emma shrieked, hurt and humiliated, "I can't believe you would. . .I didn't know you were in that trailer, Sting! I had no idea! I was just doing what Eric told me to do."

"Yeah." though Sting continued to grin, both his voice and the look in his eyes said he was deadly serious, "I'm sure you were."

She was good. Very good. He _almost_ believed her what with those big blue-green eyes and hurt little expression. But he wasn't going to be taken in by her innocent act. Not again.

"You did this?" Eric was livid, "I ought to have you arrested for assault!"

"You want to have me arrested for assault?" Sting feint shock, "Meeeee?"

He began to grin darkly, "If I'm going to be arrested I might as well do something worth it."

He started to go for Eric when the other man let out a yelp and practically dove over his desk to get away. Eric landed on the other side with a thud but he jumped right back up and grabbed a hold of his desk chair, holding it in front of him as a sort of shield.

"Y-you stay away from me!" Eric warned, pointing a finger at him.

"Once a coward, always a coward, huh, Eric?" Sting chuckled, "Oh, and one more thing. You keep pointing your finger at me and I'm gonna bite it off!"

Eric grabbed his finger with his other hand, holding it tightly to his chest.

Sting placed his hands on top of the desk and leaned in close, his voice lowering, "I just came in here to let you know that I'm coming for you, Eric. You and Immortal."

He straightened and turned, locking eyes with a nervous Emma, "And that includes you, too, sweetheart."

He began to grin as he approached her and pinched her cheek, "Why so red faced?"

Emma slapped his hand away and took a step back, enraged, "Don't ever touch me again. Ever."

She stormed out of the office and began to make her way towards the parking lot. Inside she was shaking with anger.

And fear.

All she had wanted was to keep her head down and do her job. But now she had to face the full wrath of a madman. And all because of something she hadn't meant to do.

Everything in her was screaming to just give up. To just walk away from that insane place and the lunatics who resided there. It would be better for her sanity. And certainly better for her health.

But even as she thought that she knew she couldn't walk away. The stakes were just too high.

She couldn't let anyone beat her. Not even the Insane Icon himself.


	5. Part Five: Friends Close, Enemies Closer

Part Five: Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer

made me condense the title of this next part, due to lack of space. The full title is actually: Part Five: Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer

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Sting had just finished doing another set of reps on his weight bench when he heard the doorbell ring. Rising to his feet he grabbed a towel and slung it over his neck. He also grabbed a bottle of water and began to chug it as he made his way down the hall and to the front door. The bottle was completely drained by the time he reach it and he set the empty bottle on the table.

As he opened the door he stopped short, amazed.

"Dixie." he was surprised to see the former owner of Impact Wrestling standing at his door.

"Hi, Sting." she greeted him almost hesitantly, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Sting moved to let her in, "Come in."

She entered his foyer and walked with him as he led the way out to the backyard and over to where the patio furniture was set up by his pool.

"I'm sorry," Dixie quickly apologized, "I know I should have called first."

"No, it's okay." he assured her as he took a seat, "What's going on?"

She regarded him silently for a few moments, studying him. It was clear she wanted to say something but it was as if she couldn't find the right words.

"Dixie?" he prompted lightly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Are you all right?" she finally asked at last.

Sting blinked, surprised by the question. He glanced down at himself for a moment, laughing lightly, "Well my shoulder is a bit sore from my last match, but other than that, yeah. I'm good."

Dixie shook her head, "No, I-I'm not saying this right."

She leaned in close, her voice lowering, "Do you need to talk to someone? Like a psychiatrist?"

Sting began to laugh. He couldn't help it. Of all the reasons why she would come there, he expected his mental health or lack thereof to be the least of them. She should be worried about getting her company back from the hands of that dirt bag, Bischoff. Not whether or not he was seeing six-foot tall invisible rabbits.

Dixie slowly rose to her feet, nervous, "I think I should go."

Sting's laughter died down to a chuckle and he stood up, "No, Dixie, no. I'm sorry, all right. It's just that I didn't expect you to say that."

"I'm fine." he assured her, still smiling.

She didn't look convinced, though.

He motioned for her to sit back down and he leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, "Dixie, I'm just trying to get into Bischoff's head. Really. All I'm doing is playing mind games with him and Immortal."

But even as he said that, he knew it wasn't completely true. Sure, it had started out that way. But now, as he thought about it, there were times when even he wasn't sure if he was all together still there.

And he was even a little worried that he wasn't worried about it.

His words seemed to calm her, though. She sat down and sighed, "Well you're doing a great job. You have everyone fooled."

"Good." Sting grew serious, "I want to keep it that way."

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Dixie questioned him, "Besides making Eric angry?"

"I thought becoming World Champion again would give me some leverage," Sting's eyes darkened, as did the tone of his voice, "But thanks to Bischoff's little assistant, that plan's out the window. Now I'm just going to go through each and every one of them until I get Bischoff right where I want him.

"I'm going to keep pushing him and pushing him until I get him to snap." Sting explained, "When he does, he'll slip up. And when that happens I'll be right there to capitalize."

"You're putting a lot of faith on what ifs." Dixie frowned, not convinced, "How can you be so sure that he will snap?"

Sting began to grin. At the expression Dixie actually felt unnerved instead of relieved. It was just such a sinister look from him.

"Because I know him." he told her, "I've known him for the better part of twenty years. I know how his mind works. I know how he operates."

He leaned in close, adding, "All I have to do is push the right buttons. Trust me, Dixie."

Dixie wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to trust the man sitting across from her. But by his recent actions, she didn't completely know if she could. If he were the old Sting, well that would be one thing. But the man sitting across from her was so unpredictable, so unstable. There was no telling what he would do.

She knew he had said otherwise, and there was a part of her that did want to believe him, but looking into his eyes. . .She could tell that he was on the edge. Just one little push and he very well could snap.

Should she, could she, put her faith in a man like that?

Ultimately, she knew that she had no choice. She was out of options. The truth was, Sting was her only hope.

"All right." she sighed, relenting, "You've never led me astray. If you say you have a plan, I have to trust you."

Sting reached out and placed his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring pat.

"Trust me." he repeated, a determined glint in his eyes, "Bischoff won't know what hit him."

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Emma pulled into the parking lot of the Impact Zone and cut the engine of her jeep. She leaned back against the seat, looking up at the building with a feeling of foreboding. It had been a week since she had last been there. And though her face was now back to normal it did very little to ease her mind or spirit.

She let out a sigh, mentally built up her armor, and climbed out of the car. She walked briskly into the building and made her way towards Eric's office. As she walked she kept her head down. Not as a sign of guilt, but because she just didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment.

She rounded a corner and spotted Bischoff's office a few feet away. She was just about to reach it when Abyss stepped in front of her. Emma took a step back and blinked, surprised at his sudden appearance.

"Hey, Chris." she greeted him warmly, offering a smile.

"How are you?" Abyss asked, looking at her closely from behind his mask.

"I'm okay." Emma tried to assure him.

But that wasn't completely true. She wasn't okay. Far from it. She was angry and scared. And she wanted nothing more than to just turn around, get back to her jeep and go home.

But her pride wouldn't allow her to do it. She would be damned if she let Sting beat her. And not only him, but Eric, as well. She was certainly not going to let that greedy snake win.

Abyss continued to stare at her. Clearly he wasn't buying her bravado.

Emma reached out and took his hand and he instantly ducked his head, uncomfortable and even a little shy. But she didn't let that deter her and she continued to hold his hand.

"I'm okay." she repeated.

He nodded at last and gave her hand a squeeze, "If you need me-"

"I know where to find you." she beamed up at him for a second before growing serious, "Be careful tonight in your match."

"Be careful tonight period." Abyss warned her, "He's around here somewhere."

She didn't need him elaborate on who 'he' was. She knew well enough. Maybe he was finished with her now, after that juvenile stunt. Maybe he would focus all of his attention onto Eric and Immortal.

Yeah, right.

Emma gave him another smile and slowly released his hand. As he walked away her eyes landed on Bischoff's office and she felt her stomach clench.

Taking a deep breath, she stalked over to the office and opened the door, stepping inside. She picked up her clipboard and went over it's contents.

"It looks like everything is set up for tonight's show." Emma murmured as she scanned her information sheets, "Spike is prepared for the show to go long tonight if you want to add another match."

"Well that's more like it." Eric murmured, looking her over with approval, "Nice to see your sweet face back to normal, sweet face. Now that you're your old self again, why don't we celebrate. I'm thinking you and me, a quiet candlelight dinner. Then we can go back to my hotel room for dessert."

Emma bit her lip, fighting to control her temper.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, ignoring his advances, "Get coffee? Something from Catering? Do you have any messages for the crew?"

"What I want," Eric stated, growing serious, "Is for you to stick close."

"Eric-" Emma started to warn him but he cut her off.

"This time I'm serious." her boss went on, "Or have you forgotten that Sting has threatened to go after all of us? Including you."

Emma hadn't forgotten. She hadn't forgotten at all. He was one of the reasons why she almost hadn't come back.

"He wouldn't be after me," she retorted, "If you hadn't tricked me into keeping him from his match with Jeff Jarrett."

She looked away and shook her head, sighing, "All I wanted to do was keep my head down, do my job and stay away from all of this."

"You are doing your job." Eric muttered, growing annoyed, "Whatever I tell you to do is your job. And right now I'm telling you to get that sweet little ass of yours down to the ring with Bully Ray and Jarrett. They'll keep an eye on you."

Emma spun on her heels and began to go for the door when it instantly burst open, the young woman almost colliding with Ric Flair.

"Wooo, the Nature Boy is back in town!" Ric crowed as he entered the room, "And look what we have here. Emma, baby, you just keep getting prettier every time I see you. You know, there's a Holiday Inn just down the road-"

"Ugh!" Emma scoffed in disgust and pushed her way past him out of the door.

Her reaction didn't see to faze Flair, who strutted over to one of Eric's office chairs and took a seat.

"Why don't you get rid of her all ready?" he questioned Bischoff, "She's okay to look at, but come on. I could get ten chicks here in a minute who are better looking and more fun to be around."

"What can I say? I like a challenge." Eric grinned, "And eventually I'll get her to break. Besides, she's worth a lot to me."

"I don't think it's smart having her around." Flair disputed, "Especially with Sting flying around the building like a damned jack-in-the-box. What if she knows too much about us? What if he can get her on his side-"

"Don't worry about that." Eric chuckled, "Emma doesn't want any part of this place or Immortal so she doesn't know anything. And now with Sting targeting her, there's no way in hell she'll team up with him."

He grew serious, adding, "But get Gunner ready just in case the freak decides to put in an appearance tonight."

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High above the arena, away from the action down below, hidden in the darkness and the shadows from his secluded spot in the rafters, Sting watched the show.

His hands were braced on the railing as he stared at the ring. His eyes began to narrow as he watched Jarrett make his way down to ringside. He strutted arrogantly down the ramp, grinning in triumph as though he had already won. Sting wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk right off his face.

Following after him was Bully Ray. At the sight of him he had to chuckle. Bully was tough, there was no denying that. But when it came down to it, in his heart of hearts, he was a coward. He would go for any opening and cheap shot that he could. And he would get anyone else to do his dirty work if he was able.

Sting hands constricted around the unforgiving metal as his eyes locked on Emma, who emerged from the curtain and trailed after the two wrestlers. Her head was bowed but he could still make out the frown on her face.

The fans began to boo and yell things at her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but other than that she kept her head down and continued down to the ring.

_You can't ignore them forever, sweetheart_, he thought with a cold smile.

Jarrett climbed into the ring while Bully Ray and Emma remained outside. Emma started to walk a few feet away from the wrestler when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her, keeping her at his side. Emma glared up at him and tried to break free from his hold but Bully Ray refused to let her go. She sighed and looked away.

Sting's body began to tense as he took in the scene. Acid churned in his stomach and his blood began to boil. He couldn't understand why seeing her manhandled that way made him so angry, but it did. It was baffling. He never felt that way when it happened to someone like Karen Jarrett. Why should he care if Bully Ray or anyone else put their hands on Emma?

And yet he did. And it bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

The ref called for the bell and the match began. Jeff and Rob Van Dam locked up before Jeff backed the other man into the corner. As they slowly broke apart, and Jeff backed away, he sent a kick to Van Dam's gut. Rob let out a grunt and hunched over, gasping for air.

"Yeah!" Sting could hear Bully Ray cheer and he looked to see that the other man had finally let go of Emma, all of his attention on the match.

Sting was surprised to see that Emma remained where she was. He honestly would have thought she would have used that opportunity to go to the back. In fact, he was hoping that she would have. But it didn't matter. He would just have to improvise.

He released the railing and began to make his way across the catwalk. When the time was right he would make his move.

Because he had plans for Bischoff's little assistant.

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Emma stood at ringside, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as she watched Jeff Jarrett compete in the ring against Rob Van Dam. She couldn't deny that Jeff was very athletic. He was also talented and ring smart.

So how could he be such a cheat? The truth was, he didn't need Bully Ray to help him. He could have easily competed against RVD on his own.

Jeff threw RVD out of the ring. He then went to the other side of the ring and slid out, grabbing a chair. He climbed back into the ring and picked up the chair, stalking across the ring. The ref was on him in an instant, grabbing the chair away. The two had words, arguing.

While this was going on Bully Ray jumped on Rob and leveled him with a clothesline. He then grabbed him and rolled him back into the ring.

Jeff was back at RVD, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him to his feet. He sent a vicious uppercut to the other man's chin, knocking him back down.

Emma could hear the crowd booing for him, for Bully and for her. A few of them yelled very hateful things, such as 'slut'. She found herself closing her eyes in a vein attempt to block them out. But that didn't stop the tears that welled up in her eyes or the humiliation she felt.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to clear the moisture away. She cursed Eric for doing this. For bringing her into his sick battle of wills against Sting. Why couldn't he have left her out of it?

Back in the ring Jeff sent a punch to RVD, causing the other man to fall back and hang over the ropes. While Jeff got the referee's attention Bully Ray leaned up and sent a savage punch to his jaw. Rob groaned and slumped on the mat while Emma looked at Immortal's members in disgust.

At that moment the lights went. A few seconds later the crowd began to cheer.

Emma was immediately on alert. She wanted nothing more than the make a break for the back but it was impossible for her to do so. The arena was pitch black; she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She had no choice but to stay where she was.

Just as suddenly as they went out, the lights went back on. Emma looked around in worry, her eyes wide.

At the sounds of the crowd cheering she cast her eyes to the ring and gasped in surprise.

Sting was in the ring, standing behind Jeff. He was in position and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Jeff must have sensed something and turned around. Sting sent a vicious blow to him, sending the blonde haired man to the canvas. Jeff rolled onto his side and groaned, all but out.

Sting then turned, fixing his attention on Emma. Gone was the smile and the jovial nature. The man before her was deadly serious.

He jumped out of the ring and down onto the floor and began to stalk her.

Emma's heart started to pound against her chest and she slowly backed away in fear. Because she wasn't looking behind her, she didn't notice the coil of cable on the ground. She stepped right into it and as she took another step back her foot caught it and she fell back onto her behind,

The young woman let out a grunt, pain shooting over her butt and the backs of her thighs. Though mats circled the ring they added very little protection from the concrete floor that lay beneath.

She looked up just in time to see that he was almost on her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, a cold smile tugging at his lips.

"Sting, no." was the only thing Emma could think to get out.

He made a grab for her when Bully Ray suddenly appeared behind him, sending a vicious double ax handle onto his back. Sting cringed and grunted, going down to one knee. Bully began to grin evilly as he grabbed a hold of Sting and pulled him up. He followed up with a punch to the other man's jaw.

Sting's head snapped back from the impact but he then turned back around, his features tense. Bully gulped and sent another blow. That one, too, didn't seem to faze the Insane Icon. Sting suddenly let loose with a series of strikes and blows until Bully Ray was on the ground, groaning in pain.

At that moment Gunner came racing down to ringside. He was on Sting in a moment and the two men began to go at one another.

Emma struggled to her feet, taking in the scene with surprise. She came to her senses and spun around, meaning to take off back up the ramp.

At that moment Sting caught sight of her. He leveled Gunner with a clothesline and took off for her.

He caught up with her easily and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. She looked up at him in alarm and started to struggle, but it did no good.

Sting bent down and grabbed her around the thighs. He righted himself, throwing her over his shoulder. As she continued to thrash about he turned and stalked off up the ramp, disappearing behind the curtain.


	6. Part Six: Truth and Consequences

Sting briskly walked into a storage room and unceremoniously dropped Emma. She landed on the ground with a grunt, pain shooting from her behind. Again. She rubbed it and looked up at him with a mixture of trepidation and resentment.

She climbed to her feet with a groan and made a mad dash for the door. But he got there first, taking hold of her arms and forcing her to sit back onto a folding chair.

Emma flopped down and glared up at him. She couldn't help the tremor that raced through her body as she took in his tense stance and unreadable expression. He continued to hold her in place, their faces mere inches apart.

"Keep glaring at me with those pretty eyes," Sting warned softly, teeth flashing, "And I'll pluck 'em out."

Emma quickly looked away, biting her lip but saying nothing. Sting finally released her and took a step back, studying her.

She noticed something out of the corner of her eye and she turned back around. Sting was removing his baseball bat from his trench coat.

He began to pace back and forth in front of her, studying her darkly, his hand shaking the bat.

He suddenly drew to a stop and lifted it, as though to take a swing at her. Emma cringed away from him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut but not crying out. Though she was terrified she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream. At least, she hoped she wouldn't.

She waited, teeth grit, for the inevitable hit. When it didn't come the stress in her body slowly began to ebb and she gradually opened her eyes.

He was just standing there, watching her. His face revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

She hadn't even cried out at his threat. He actually had a hint of respect for her for that. If only grudgingly. Even some men would have yelled.

They stared at each other for a few heart stopping minutes, neither one speaking. Tension cracked around them, sparking the air with electricity.

Emma's breathing became shallower as her panic once more began to rise. She couldn't take it anymore. The not knowing what was going to happen was playing havoc with her fragile nerves.

"Just do it!" she screamed up at him at last, "Just do it all ready! Get it over with! You're not going to believe me anyway, so just go ahead and do it!"

Sting regarded her silently as he savagely tried to keep his temper in check. She glared defiantly up at him, her pretty eyes flashing like fire.

He couldn't believe it. She was actually screaming for him to get it over with. Instead of begging and pleading, instead of crying, she was challenging him take out his revenge.

Without a word, Sting turned and stormed out of the room, locking the door behind him. He stalked off down the hallway, needing to put some distant between himself and her.

The truth was, hitting her was the last thing on his mind. He didn't even want to get answers from her anymore, which had been his initial goal for dragging her in there. No, there was something else much more appealing that he had in mind for her.

What he really wanted to do was haul her out of that chair and kiss her senseless. He couldn't help himself. Seeing her sitting there, all that bravery and fire. . .it got his blood pumping. He could feel it burning through his veins like lava.

He was disgusted with himself. What was wrong with him? She had made him think she was some kind of innocent victim. She had helped Bischoff to screw him over. And all he could think about was kissing her?

What kind of hold did she have on him? Every time he got around her all he wanted to do was touch her. Run his hands through that silky hair of hers.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to know if that mouth of hers was as hot as the words that came out of it.

He wanted to see something in those pretty eyes of hers besides anger. Or fear.

Or sadness.

He drew to a stop, the wheels in his mind spinning. In his anger and thirst for vengeance he had forgotten about that.

That was the thing that got to him the most. The absolute sadness that he would see come over her from time-to-time. Oh, she tried to hide it. She tried to make sure nobody could see it as she put on that brave face.

But he did. When she was sure she was alone he could see that sadness fill her eyes.

And it was then that he started to doubt himself. Doubt his preliminary opinion of her. Could it be that she had helped Eric because she had no other choice? Could it be that Bischoff was holding something over her? Maybe he was forcing her to do his dirty work.

Could it be that things weren't as cut and dry as they first appeared?

As he once again took off down the corridor a PA came running up to him, "Sting! Sting, I need you to see something!"

"It can wait." Sting muttered, trying to walk around him.

"Please, you need to see this!" the PA took his arm and led him over to the monitors where a few of the other wrestlers were watching, "Just watch."

Out at ringside the crowd looked up at the monitor positioned over the ramp as the image cut from Sting to a black and white surveillance video of the backstage area from Destination X. They watched as Emma came back into the building and walked over to Eric.

Sting's eyes narrowed as he watched her hand Eric the keys.

_ "Here are Gunner's keys." she said, "I parked the truck over by that trailer like you wanted. Just tell him to be careful of the workmen when he goes to move it."_

_ "Thanks, cupcake." Eric grinned down at her, "You did a terrific job."_

_ Emma appeared confused, "All I did was park a truck. I mean, sure, I didn't scratch it but it's not a huge feat."_

_It cut to her watching the monitors as Eric yelled for the ref to start counting. Suddenly her eyes lit up, as though she were realizing something. Whatever it was seemed to click as her expression turned to one of horror and guilt. _

_ "That cretin!" she yelled and took off towards the back door._

_ She was almost to it when Sting unexpectedly came barreling inside and raced towards ringside._

At that moment the video cut out.

The other wrestlers looked at Sting hesitantly, leery of what he would do.

But he wasn't doing anything. Just staring at the black screen, his features like stone.

However inside he felt the rage begin to wash over him.

She didn't know. She had no idea he was in the trailer. And when she had realized what she had accidentally done she had even tried to go let him out.

It also explained why she hadn't turned when he had called out to her. The workmen. She wouldn't have been able to hear him over the noise they were making.

It all made sense now. Neat, perfectly wrapped up sense.

"She was telling the truth." he heard AJ murmur in wonder.

"Well she said she didn't mean to do it." Tara spoke up.

Emma had tried to tell him she was innocent. He began to smile coldly, sickened with himself. Heck, she had screamed it to him. But he hadn't believed her. He had immediately thought she was like Bischoff and the rest of Immortal. He had instantly thought the worst in her and condemned her.

What a hypocrite. Hadn't he gone through almost the same thing years ago in WCW with the NWO? They had made everyone think the worst in him. And he had been so hurt, so angry when his supposed good friends had immediately turned on him. And here he had gone and done the same thing to an innocent woman.

Sting quickly turned around and raced back to the storage room. He had to let her out and tell her how sorry he was. He knew it was probably too late for her to believe him, or even trust him, but he had to tell her. He owed her that much.

He reached it a few seconds later, his hand going for the lock. He was just about to turn it when he felt something crash into his back.

Bellowing in pain, he slammed against the unrelenting wooden surface of the door. He was roughly turned around where he came face-to-face with an enraged Abyss.

The bigger man sent a crashing blow to Sting's gut, knocking the wind from him. He leaned down, holding his stomach as he gasped for much needed air.

Abyss raised his clasped fists for a double ax handle when Sting took hold of his baseball bat and drove it into the other man's sternum. As the bigger man leaned down Sting sent another hit, this time to his back. Abyss groaned and fell to the ground.

Sting was about to unlock the door when Jeff, Scott, Bully and Gunner came running up. It wasn't much of a fight as the four dove onto the other man, driving their fists into him again and again.

Sting fought back as much as he could but it was clearly no contest and he was soon driven to the ground.

Emma could hear the sounds of a fight right outside the storage room. She promptly jumped from the chair and rushed to the door, banging on it.

"Hey!" she called, "Help! Someone, please, help me! Let me out!"

She heard the sounds of the lock turning and she took a step back, uneasy. The door swung open and standing there was a concerned Eric.

"Are you all right?" he questioned as he took her arm and led her out of the room.

Emma gasped, her eyes widening, as she stepped out of the room and saw the brawl taking place between Sting and Abyss and Immortal.

They had Sting on the ground and were savagely beating him with their fists and even Sting's own baseball bat. It resembled a pack of wild dogs devouring their prey.

Emma's hands flew to her mouth, the young woman horrified by the carnage. She was still scared, still angry. By rights, she shouldn't have cared what happened to him considering what he had done, what he had almost done, to her. And yet, seeing him like that upset her greatly for some unknown reason.

Maybe it was because she didn't like seeing anyone ganged up on. Maybe it was because she had always believed a person should have a fair chance. She didn't know. All she knew was that seeing Sting like that brought unexpected tears to her eyes.

"No." she shook her head, her voice gaining volume, "No, stop it!"

"Come on." Eric put an arm around her and started to lead her away, "Let's get you out of here."

"Eric, it's over." Emma looked up at him pleadingly, "It's over. Tell them to stop! Please, tell them to stop!"

Eric said nothing and continued to lead her away. Emma looked over his shoulder and relief began to wash over her as she saw AJ, James Storm and Devon jump in to even the odds. Soon Sting was back up and he and the others even had Abyss and Immortal on the run.

Emma turned back around, unconsciously leaning against Eric as he walked her down the hall. Now that her adrenaline was leaving her she instantly felt tried, stressed and distraught. And more than anything she just wanted to go home.

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Sting paced back and forth across his backyard later that night. It was almost three in the morning, but he couldn't sleep. He kept reliving the night over and over again in his head.

He was angry. And all of his anger was directed at one person.

Himself.

He had thought the worst in her. Of course it wouldn't have been the first time someone changed on a dime in this business. That was the nature of the beast for some. An opportunity presented itself and you jumped on it; doing whatever you could to get ahead.

But he should have known she was different. He should have known she wasn't like the rest of them. He should have trusted her character.

He drew to a stop, raking his hands through his hair. He could still hear her voice, cutting in over the sounds of Immortal kicking his butt. He could hear her words clearly.

She had told Eric to stop his stooges. More than that. She had _begged_ for Bischoff to stop Immortal.

Why? Why had she done it? He certainly didn't deserve her mercy after what he had done to her. So why had she done it?

He slowly began to shake his head and laugh in disbelief. Of course!

It was because of who she was. What kind of person she was. What kind of heart she had. And the lady did have heart. He couldn't deny that any longer.

First and foremost he needed to apologize to her. Then he needed to make it up to her.

And lastly, he was determined to find out just what kind of hold Bischoff had on her.


	7. Part Seven: Peace Offerings

Sting walked with purpose through the Impact Zone. As he crossed the corridor crew and wrestlers alike quickly moved out of his way. They watched after him with apprehension, leery of what he was going to do.

It had been a week since he had gone after Emma. During that time he had made himself scarce; instead choosing to stay home and bide his time. He had done a lot of planning in that week and he only hoped some good would come from it.

He had vowed that the second he saw her he would apologize. He knew it wouldn't be easy. She was so afraid of him she might run, screaming for the hills, the second she saw him.

He grew thoughtful. Maybe not. She wasn't a coward, from what he had gathered. If he approached her carefully there was a chance she would stay and listen to what he had to say.

And if she didn't. . .Well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He slowly drew to a stop, spotting Emma. She was standing a few feet ahead of him, oblivious to what was going on around her. Her nose was buried in her ever present clipboard.

Emma glanced over her clipboard, going over the notes for that night's show. Seemingly content with what she had read she lifted her head and started to make her way back to Eric's office.

As she did she spotted AJ and Chris Sabin coming from the opposite direction. She slowly came to a stop as they did the same, the two wrestlers blocking her way.

She looked up at them, feeling uneasy. She really didn't want to get into any more confrontations.

AJ glanced down at the ground, contemplating something. When he turned back to her he appeared almost hesitant.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry." he replied, sincere, "I'm sorry I doubted you."  
Emma blinked, surprised. That was the last thing she expected.

She found herself smiling up at him and said truthfully, "It's all right."

"Yeah?" AJ was amazed that she could be so understanding.

"Yeah." Emma nodded and even offered a light laugh, "The evidence against me was pretty damning."

"Yeah, well," AJ looked down at the ground before turning back to her, "I'm just glad the truth came out."

He extended his hand, "No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings." Emma smiled and shook his hand, "And thanks, AJ."

"Yeah." AJ gave her hand a pat before he and Sabin went on.

Emma stayed were she was, her smile growing as her eyes grew wistful. Maybe things were actually starting to work out.

"Hey, Emma, can we talk?"

Emma blinked, coming out of her thoughts. She turned around and suddenly her smile froze on her lips. It began to fade away only to be replaced with a look of alarm. She found she was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Sting, wearing street clothes and his face paint, made his way over to her. He took note of her obvious fear and he cursed himself. He had done this to her. He had nobody to blame but himself.

He came to a stop a few feet from her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides due to anxiety. Emma's eyes slowly traveled to those hands before returning to his face. She regarded him cautiously, holding her clipboard to her chest as though it were some kind of shield. She didn't speak.

"I, uh. . ." he offered a nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair, "This was much easier in my head."

He grew serious and gave her his full attention, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you last week. You didn't deserve it."

Emma remained silent. Truthfully, she didn't know what to say. Or think. After being witness to all of Sting's bravado, and all of his anger, seeing him now before her, appearing almost hesitant. . .well she didn't know what to make of it.

Was he being sincere? Did he truly mean what he was saying?

Or was this all another one of his schemes? Another one of his mind games?

Emma took a small step back. As much as he appeared sincere and as much as she, surprisingly, wanted to believe him she just couldn't. The seeds of doubt were still there, laying fresh in her mind.

"Sure." she found herself saying as she took another step back, "No problem. Um, thanks."

Before Sting could say another word she turned on her heels and briskly walked back down the hall.

He watched after her, frustration welling up inside him. He didn't blame her for being leery. She would have been stupid not to be after everything he had put her through.

But that still didn't stop him from wanting to go after her, take hold of her and make her hear him out.

He turned away and sighed, raking his hands through his hair.

Yeah, it was definitely time for Plan B.

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Emma finished closing out the office later that night. After the computer was shut off and all the files were stored away she grabbed her purse and hit the lights.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she began to make her way down the hall and towards the employees' parking lot. All she wanted to do was to go home, soak in the bathtub and put the entire night out of her mind.

She was almost to the back entrance when Tori, one of the show's stagehands, came running up to her, her blonde ponytail flying behind her.

"Emma, wait up!" she called out, out of breath, as she raced over to her.

Emma drew to a stop and turned to look at her in curiosity. It was then that she noticed the other woman was holding an envelope.

"Hi, Tori." Emma greeted her before nodding towards the envelope, "I didn't forget a paycheck, did I?"

"No." Tori handed her the envelope and explained, "This was left in the production office for you. It looks important."

Emma took it, her eyes narrowed in thought, "Oh. Well thanks. Have a good night."

"You, too." Tori gave her a parting smile before heading off.

Emma promptly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter within. As she began to read it her eyes started to constrict.

_Emma,_

_ Come to 1478 E. Ocean Drive as soon as you finish up at _

_ the Impact Zone. The limo is waiting outside for you._

_ - Eric_

_ PS - This isn't a request._

Ugh! What could he possibly want now? She closed her eyes and sighed, crumbling up the letter in her hand.

She just wanted to go home, have her bath and bury her head under her blankets. She didn't want to have to deal with Eric and another one of his stunts.

She opened her eyes and began to stalk towards the exit. Sure enough, as she stepped outside she found a long, black limousine waiting for her.

The driver quickly emerged from the car and hurried around to the back to open the door for her.

"Ms. Sheffield." he nodded to her as she approached.

"Where are we going?" Emma questioned him.

She had only been in Florida for six months and the address in the letter wasn't familiar to her. If she had some idea of where she was going maybe it could help prepare her.

"I'm not at liberty to say." was the only answer the driver would give.

Emma looked up at him suspiciously. Everything in her was screaming for her to forget it and leave. But then she remembered the end of the letter. She had no choice.

She climbed in and settled back against the seat. The driver quickly climbed in and started the car. Within seconds they were pulling out of the lot and heading down the street.

As they traveled Emma looked out the window, trying to get an idea of where they were going. She hated to admit it, but the arena didn't look familiar to her.

It was then that she came to a decision. Where ever he was taking her, as soon as she got there, and if it wasn't on the up and up, then she was going to tell Eric off and leave. And that would be that.

About twenty minutes later the limo finally drew to a stop and the driver hopped out. He hurried around to the back and opened the door, extending his hand to Emma.

She took it and allowed him to help her out of the car. As she stepped out she looked up, eyes widening in surprise.

Before her was one of Orlando's upscale restaurants, Giovanni's Bistro. Though Emma, herself, had never been there she had heard a few of the Knockouts talk about it. They had gushed over how extravagant and luxuriant it was.

She entered the clearly expensive restaurant. It was tastefully decorated with archways and marble pillars. Lavish, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The carpet underneath her feet felt lush and there was even a fireplace residing before a small dance floor.

She noticed a lone table in the center of the room, expensively decorated with fine china and crystal. There was even a centerpiece adorned with two of her favorite flowers, white and sterling silver roses, set up in the middle of the table.

A lone figure was seated at the table, but their chair was turned around, obscuring her view of them.

Emma sighed with irritation as she approached. She didn't care how much money Eric had spent on the evening, or that he had managed to find out her favorite types of flower. She didn't want to be there. And she wasn't going to stay.

"Eric, for the last time," she muttered as she stepped up to the table, "I'm not interested in you, romantically or otherwise. I'll never be interested. I just want to do my job and be done with it."

Suddenly the chair turned around and Emma blinked, stunned.

Sitting there, grinning up at her, was Sting. And he had gone all out for the evening. He was decked out in a red suit, black shirt and red silk tie. And to top it off he was wearing his Insane Icon face paint.

Emma was floored. He was definitely the last person she expected.

She began to look around, instantly feeling uneasy. This wasn't going to be good, she was sure of it.

"Emma," Sting greeted her with a flourish of his arm, "Good of you to come. Have a seat."

Emma bit her lip, contemplating her options. On one hand, she was worried about what he would do if she tried to leave.

But on the other, she had to admit she was really curious to see what he had up his sleeve.

She slowly sank into her chair, her eyes nervously darting about the room.

"What are you doing?" Sting propped his elbows up on the table and put his chin in his hands as he regarded her with interest.

"Isn't this the part where Batman comes crashing through the ceiling?" she quipped dryly.

Sting began to laugh uproariously, slapping the table with mirth. The crystal wine glasses danced from the impact but luckily didn't topple over.

"Oohhh!" he wiped at his eyes with his cloth napkin, "That was a good one."

"Glad you enjoyed it." Emma deadpanned, still unsure.

Sting reached over and picked up one of the glasses, offering it to her, "A drink, my dear?"

Emma looked from it to him and began to smirk, "You're kidding, right?"

"Suit yourself." Sting set her glass down and reached for his own.

He took a healthy drink, grinning at her. Suddenly his face contorted and he began to cough, grabbing at his throat.

Emma jumped to her feet. She looked over at him in alarm, unsure of what to do.

Sting unexpectedly stopped choking and started to laugh, pointing at her, "You should see your face!"

Emma realized it was all a joke and she slowly sank back into her chair. She bit her lip, debating if maybe she should have left, consequences be damned.

Sting once again handed her the glass. Emma hesitantly took it, examining it carefully. Well it _looked_ all right.

She took a small sip and paused, her eyes widening.

"White grape juice." she announced in surprise.

"Your favorite." Sting grinned at her.

Emma arched an eyebrow in silent question.

Sting removed the lid from her plate, revealing chicken and broccoli penne with alfredo sauce. One of her favorite foods.

"_Bon appetit!_" he announced as he removed the lid from his own dish.

Emma looked down at it, confused and cautious.

She turned back to him and offered an unsettled smile, "So what's in it? Ipecac? Laxatives?. . .Arsenic?"

"Here I have your favorite meal prepared and you're not even going to eat it?" Sting huffed, "Man, are you ungrateful!"

When she still refused he picked up his fork and plucked a healthy portion from her plate, taking a big bite of it.

"It's fine." he assured her, nodding, "In fact, it's pretty darn good."

Emma refrained, though, still wary. She didn't trust him. Not after everything that had happened. She didn't care if he did apologize. She didn't believe him and was sure he was planning something.

She leaned forward and demanded, "What is this about, Sting? Be honest."

Sting stopped eating and stared at her with thoughtful eyes. He ran his thumb over the prongs of his fork as he regarded her silently.

He didn't blame her for being leery. After everything he had done to her, he would have felt the same way. He knew he had to take it nice and slow or else he'd only end up spooking her again.

He glanced down at the table and motioned to it with a sigh, "This was just my way of apologizing to you."

"You're forgiven." Emma replied dryly, "Can I go now?"  
Sting looked over at her, annoyed at the situation. He knew it wouldn't be easy but did she have to make it so difficult?

"You can relax, M&M." he tried to reassure her, "You don't have to be afraid of me."

"Oh really? Are you sure about that?" Emma scoffed, "And why do you keep calling me that?"

Sting began to grin, "Because you're bite size."

And he snapped his teeth at her before laughing.

When she didn't return the express he grew serious. Leaning forward, he stared at her earnestly, "I just wanted to show you how sorry I am. I am sorry, Emma."

He lightly tapped his hand against the surface of the table, uncomfortable as he went on, "I've been betrayed more times than I can count in this business. It's made it hard for me to trust. And the fact that you're working for Bischoff-"

"I'm not working for Eric." she cut him off, "Not the way you think. Look, I'm just an assistant, okay. I get coffee, make copies and check and make sure that the shows are running the way Eric wants."

She sighed, "I just want to put in my time and then I'll be out of your hair."

Emma blinked, realizing that she might have said too much. She picked up her own fork and nervously poked at the dish. She skewered a piece of chicken and carefully took a bite of it. Her eyes lit up with pleasure. She had to admit it was fabulous.

She was just about to tell Sting just that when she noticed he was looking at her with narrowed eyes. He was thinking about what she had said, she was sure of it.

"What did you mean by that?" he inquired, casually pointing at her with his fork, "Put in your time?"

"Nothing." Emma shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, "It's just a saying."

She glanced over at him. He wasn't buying her explanation. She bit her lip, conflicted. She knew she should have kept it to herself. There was no way he could understand. He wasn't even stable, for goodness sakes.

And he wasn't stable because of what Eric and Immortal had done to him. They had pushed him so far that he had had to step outside the box to deal with them.

That gave her reason to pause.

Maybe he could understand. Maybe he was the one person who would understand more than anyone else.

The truth was, she was so tired of having to deal with all of this on her own. Every day the pressure seemed to get greater. Every day she could feel the weight of it just a little bit more.

She knew she had to confide in someone. Trust someone.

She just never imagined it would be the man sitting across from her.

"Ever since I was four-years-old I've wanted to be a writer." she offered him a weak smile as she began, "My mom used to cuddle with me on the couch and she would say, 'Tell me a pretty story' and I would tell her these outlandish tales of princesses and princes. Knights and dragons. Worlds were good won out over evil and love conquered all.

"And I continued to tell those stories until I learned to write." Emma went on, "And then I wrote them down."

A faraway look came to her eyes and she murmured, "Writing. . .it's my one great passion. The only time I ever truly feel alive. It's my way of finally coming out of my shell and putting everything I am, all the joy, all the fear, all the wishes and desires and dreams, everything. . .out. Out and on paper."

She shrugged, embarrassed, "I know it sounds silly-"

"No." Sting shook his head, "No, it doesn't. I get it."

She glanced over at him in hesitation and he explained, "I feel the same way about wrestling. I get in that ring and I feel the red blood cells start pumping through my veins. I hear the noise of the crowd, feel their energy, and it goes through me like electricity. I go out there night after night and I put it all out on the line. I feel so alive!"

She slowly began to smile at him. He did understand. The way he felt about wrestling was exactly how she felt about writing.

Sting took in her smile, his own growing. It encouraged him. Maybe she was finally loosening up.

Emma took another bite of her dish before going on, "Anyway, a few years ago I got a job in a bookstore."

She smiled, "A dream job for me, of course. I got to study other authors, read books on writing. It was great!"

Sting grinned at that, charmed by her excitement. He liked seeing the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her past.

However her smile faded as she grew sad, remembering, "Anyway, one night my friends and I went to a party. And I met Eric Bischoff."

Sting's grin instantly disappeared at the sound of the Impact owner's name. So just what part did Bischoff play in all of this?

"I knew who he was." Emma explained, "I've been a wrestling fan since I was a little girl. Anyway, I was really surprised when he approached me."

Sting's eyes narrowed in thought. She was a wrestling fan? He would have never guessed her to be a fan. In fact, that was the last thing he expected. She always seemed so down about being at Impact.

"We started talking and I told him I was a writer trying to break into the business." Emma went on, "And Eric. . .well he said he was looking to branch out. He had been producing reality shows for awhile and he wanted to try something new. He had tried his hand at the publishing world, writing his own book and all, and he wanted to get more involved with it."

"So he told you he wanted to be your agent." Sting surmised.

Emma nodded, frowning, "Yeah. He wanted to see some of my work. I thought it was a dream come true so I jumped at it. I showed him the three manuscripts I had finished."

She leaned in, heartfelt, "These were stories I had worked on for years. Late nights agonizing over just the right words. Endless weeks of writer's block when I was sure I would never finish another line, let alone another chapter. All my emotions poured into those pages. Stories that I had painstakingly gone over again and again until I was sure they were perfect. All of my hopes, fears and tears were poured into those manuscripts"

She smiled, but there was no joy in the expression, "And I couldn't believe it when he came back, raving to me about how good they were. He said I had real talent and he could see my books flying off the shelves.

"I couldn't believe it. I mean, all my hoping, all my wishing, and here it was finally coming true." she scoffed, shaking her head with self disgust, "I bought everything he was saying like some novice little fool. Which was exactly what I was."

"What did he do?" Sting demanded, his tone darkening.

He had an idea but he wanted to hear it from Emma, herself.

She looked over at him and bit her lip, almost reluctant to go on. The truth was she was more embarrassed at herself than she was angry at Bischoff.

She finally sighed, "So he came back with a contract for me to sign. It looked legitimate. And what parts I didn't completely understand he had a lawyer explain to me."

"His lawyer, I bet." Sting muttered with a cold smile, getting an idea of where this was going.

"Yep." Emma nodded, "And like a fool I signed on the dotted line."

She threw down her fork and leaned back in her chair, casting angry eyes to the ceiling, "I was so stupid. I played right into his hands.

"He had slipped in a little something extra before I had a chance to sign." she turned back to him and smiled coldly, "The contract I had signed was actually an agreement. I had to work for Eric for the next five years in return for his efforts to try and sell my manuscripts.

"And if I quit or I'm otherwise fired. . ." she turned away and Sting could see tears come to her eyes, "Then I lose the rights to my work. He gets my stories free and clear."

He felt his blood begin to boil. It was bad enough Eric had pulled this kind of crap before; that was how he had gotten his hands on Impact, after all. But to take a sweet girl like Emma, who's only dream was to be an author, and trick her into a five year sentence as his slave? And if she walked away she lost everything she worked so hard for?

He couldn't wait to get his hands on him the next time he saw him. Sting found himself grinning darkly as he imagined everything he wanted to do to the other man.

"So that was it." Emma began to fiddle with her napkin, her voice catching slightly, "I had to leave California and my friends and the bookstore. I had to move across the country and start working as Eric's assistant here at Impact."

Sting blinked, coming out of his dark thoughts, "Where at in California?"

"Santa Barbara." Emma clarified.

Sting found himself smiling despite the situation, "Almost a couple hours from my old stomping grounds of Venice."

Emma, too, began to grin, "Yeah. Not too far, at least."

She grew wistful, "It wouldn't be so bad working here if it were for anyone else besides Eric."

She looked at him, earnest, "I know I don't look like it, but I really do enjoy the business. Like I said, I've been a fan for a long time. And seeing the day-to-day workings of a wrestling company has actually been really interesting. But having to deal with Eric in the process. . ."

"I know it doesn't excuse my being standoffish. And I know it wasn't fair to paint all of you with the same brush I had Eric. Especially considering that you guys haven't done anything wrong." she shrugged, "But, well, you can see why I haven't exactly been a joy to be around at Impact."

"I get it." and he did; he completely understood, "I do."

Emma hedged, not sure if she should say the next part. The truth was, it was actually very easy talking to Sting. Easier than she ever could have imagined. She didn't understand why, but she felt comfortable opening up to him. She felt like she could tell him anything.

"There is one way I can get my work back." she looked away, revulsion coming over her, "Eric said he would tear up the contract if I would. . .If I would sleep with him."

She added, vehement, "But I would _never_ do that. I mean, I want out of this contract in the worst way but I could never. . .Especially not with a cretin like him. I just can't do it."

She smiled coldly, "And he knows that. I think he takes some sort of twisted pleasure out of it. Like he knows he has me trapped."

Everything in Sting went still. He had to sit there and essentially force himself not to leave, find Eric and beat the ever living crap out of him.

Emma noticed his expression and she knew she should have kept that part of the deal a secret. She wasn't even sure why she had said anything. It was just that she felt like she had to get it out. All of it.

She reached out and placed her hand on his, "Sting, don't, okay? If you go after him it'll only make things worse."

He was quiet for several moments and she knew he must have been trying to control his temper.

When he finally spoke his voice was still tight with unleashed anger, but he did appear slightly calmer, "Why didn't you go to a lawyer? Try to get out of the contract?"

"I did." Emma assured him, "But Eric's good, the little weasel. The contract is completely binding. Legally I have no recourse."

She looked down and her eyes widened slightly as she realized she was still holding his hand. She quickly let it go and placed her own hands in her lap. Sting made a note of it, a slight smile coming to his lips. Could it be that she was warming up to him?

Now that he knew why she had been so withdrawn and cool, it all made sense to him. And seeing her now, so open and, dare he say, relaxed. Well it made him like her all the more.

Emma began to play with her napkin and she grinned with embarrassment, "This is all so silly, I know. I mean, I could walk away at any time. They're just stories, after all. In hindsight it's no big deal."

"Yes, it is." at the seriousness of his tone she found herself looking up at him, "It is a big deal. They aren't just stories. They're not just words on paper. They're a part of you."

He leaned forward and explained, "After WCW went out of business I had a chance to go up North. You don't compete in this business and not at least consider going up North at some point in your career."

"But you never did." Emma smiled at him, appearing almost proud, "You chose to stay with WCW. Even after it was gone."

"Yeah." Sting regarded her closely

How did she know that? Well, she had said she was a wrestling fan. That would explain it.

But still, he was surprised to know that she had followed his career. The idea that she might have pleased him.

"I had met with Vince McMahon." he went on, "And, you know, he was very good to me. We had a good conversation.

"He had offered me the world. Amazing venues. Merchandising sales. More money than I could shake my bat at."

"So why didn't you go?" Emma inquired, also leaning in. She was very interested in what he was saying.

"There were a few reasons." Sting explained, reflective, "But one of the most important was the fact that they wanted to rights to my name and likeness.

Emma could see just how serious he was as he went on, "Sting isn't just a name. It's me. He's me. My blood. My sweat. My tears. And the idea of some suits up North getting to own a piece of me, when they hadn't fought with me for all those years. . .It just left a bad taste in my mouth.

"So I get it, Emma." he told her, "I understand why your manuscripts mean so much to you."

Emma nodded, a huge sense of relief coming over her. She couldn't describe how good it felt to know that somebody got it. That they realized how important this was to her and why she couldn't back down.

She couldn't believe how well he understood. And, in return, she believed she was starting to figure him out a little more, as well.

This was unbelievable. She never would have imagined that she could find some common ground with the Insane Icon. If someone had told her that a week ago she would have thought they were crazy.

They were silent for several moments, eating and contemplating how the night had gone and what they had learned about each other.

"I want to thank you." Emma suddenly replied, sincere, "Coming here tonight, well I wasn't sure what I was in for. But it's actually been very nice. So thank you for a lovely evening.

"And I'd like to start over, if I could," she extended her hand, "Emma Sheffield."

Sting looked at her hand and grinned. He clasped it in his larger one and shook it, "Steve Borden. Nice to meet you."

Emma giggled, "Nice to meet you, too."

They continued to hold hands and Emma's smile slowly began to fade. Even through his gloves, she could feel the warmth of his touch. And she couldn't ignore the spark that seemed to pass from his hand to hers. It was surprising, but not unpleasant.

She looked over at him and found him watching her thoughtfully, his face betraying nothing. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

Almost reluctantly, she slowly removed her hand from his. She glanced down at the table and laughed, feeling nervous and unsure.

She dared to peek up at him and she found him turning away, running a thoughtful hand over the side of his neck.

Something caught in her mind, something she had always wondered about.

"Steve?" she called out to him tentatively.

It felt a little odd, calling him by his real name, but she had to admit that she liked it. She felt like she had gotten to know the man behind the persona and so calling him by his given name just felt right to her.

Sting glanced over at her. He had to admit he liked hearing the sound of his name on her lips. It felt good. It felt very good. And he hoped it was something she would continue to do.

"Yeah?" he asked, offering her a smile.

Emma bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. She didn't want to insult or offend him. But it was something she had always wondered about.

"I. . ." she thought a moment, choosing her words careful, "I've always wondered-and you don't have to answer this if you don't want to."

"Go ahead." he motioned for her to go on.

"I. . ." she tentatively pointed to his neck and inquire, "I've always wondered, how did you get that scar on your jaw?"

Sting blinked, surprised by her question. She had always wondered? So that meant that she had looked at him. Scratch that. She had studied him. She would have had to because that particular scar wasn't very noticeable unless a person really looked at him.

He had to fight to keep from smiling. So, sweet little Emma had been checking him out, had she? That was good to know. That was very good to know.

"Well," he began, his tone exaggerated as he rubbed at his jaw, "It all happened on one dark, stormy night in Bangkok."

Emma giggled, charmed by his teasing nature.

All of a sudden music began to play out over the restaurant. A haunting tune filled with strings, guitar and piano chords. Her eyes narrowed in thought as the first few notes began to play.

Her eyes suddenly lit up, wonder coming over her. She knew that song!

_ "Find me here. And speak to me_._"_ the singer's soulful voice washed over the room,_ "I want to feel you. I need to hear you."_

Emma slowly turned to Sting, finding him grinning at her.

"How did you. . .?" her voice trialed off. Of course he would have found out one of her favorite songs.

Sting rose from his chair and held out a hand to her, "Wanna dance with a madman?"

Emma smiled and took his hand, allowing him to lead her out to the dance floor. He gave her a little turn before pulling her into his arms, holding her close to him. Emma felt a blush warm her cheeks and she bowed her head, looking at his chest.

Sting looked down at the top of her head, his smile fading away. In it's place was an expression at once poignant and thoughtful. His arms tightened around her as he pulled her closer.

The truth was, he liked the feeling of her in his arms. He liked it a lot. Despite their differences in height, she fit perfectly against him. Better than he would have imagined.

Emma felt his hold on her tighten and a nervous shiver ran down her spine. But the nerves weren't from fear for once. At least, not the fear she was used to feeling around him. No, this fear was both insignificant and yet more dangerous.

_ "You are the hope, that keeps me trusting. You are the light, to my soul. You are my purpose. You're everything."_

Emma closed her eyes and laid her cheek against his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt she could hear his heart beating. It seemed to beat in time with the music, though she noticed it sped up a little the closer she got to him.

She felt the tension ease out of her body as she allowed herself to relax and let go. No more worry. No more apprehension. Just dance with the Insane Icon. She sighed, enjoying the sounds of one of her favorite songs and the feeling of his strong arms around her.

_"How can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you?" _the singer asked, _"Would you tell me, how could it be, any better than this?"_

Sting closed his eyes briefly, affected by the feeling of her so close to him. Man, the singer really hit the nail on the head. At that moment those words seemed to mirror exactly what he was feeling.

He opened his eyes and stared down at her, watching her snuggle against him as they danced. The fact that she could be so open, so trusting, after everything she had told him. . .Heck, after everything he had done to her. He couldn't believe it.

He also couldn't deny the feelings she was invoking in him. He had wanted to kiss her before. But now, having her so close to him, that feeling had only grown. He wanted nothing more than to lift her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless.

But he didn't want to stop there.

After talking to her tonight and really getting to know her. . .he found his feelings for her had deepened. He had finally seen the real woman behind the ice princess and he wanted to know more of her. Mentally. Physically. Intimately.

_ "You calm the storms. And you give me rest. You hold me in your hands. You won't let me fall. You steal my heart, and you take my breath away. Would you take me in? Take me deeper now."_

He wanted her. All of her. Her trust. Her friendship. Her passion. And he was sure that there was untapped passion laying just before the surface. And he wanted to be the man to bring it out of her.

He wanted more. Everything. And he would do whatever he could to earn that. He didn't care how long it took. He didn't care how slow he had to go. He just knew that he had to have her.

Emma pulled back and looked up at him, the pair sharing a long steady gaze. Both appeared thoughtful. And even a little afraid.

_ "Would you tell me, how could it be, any better than this?"_

.

.

.

.

.

The limo pulled up to Emma's apartment later that night. As it drew to a stop she glanced over at Sting and smiled shyly. He regarded her silently, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

She offered a gentle laugh, "Thank you for. . .an interesting evening."

"Not what you expected, huh?" Sting teased, lightly bumping her arm with his own.

"Uh, no." Emma agreed, "It was definitely not what I expected."

Her smile grew as she looked down at her lap and murmured, "That was the best part."

Sting's grin faded as he regarded her seriously. He waited until she dared to look at him before speaking again.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." he replied, his words heartfelt, "What I did that night at the Impact Zone, grabbing you and taking you to that room. . .I should have believed you when you said you didn't know."

"I don't blame you." Emma spoke up, meaning it, "After everything that Eric and Immortal has done to you. . ."

She shrugged, "I'm not sure I would have believed me, either."

Sting's eyebrows rose, surprised that she could be so understanding. The lady had class. He couldn't deny that.

"For what it's worth," he replied softly, "I trust you, Emma."

Emma gave him a small smile, "Well for what it's worth, I really hope you can stop Eric and Immortal."

She glanced out the window and sighed, "I feel bad for Dixie, considering Eric tricked me, too. I really do hope she's able to get her company back."

She turned back to him and paused, the pair sharing a long look. Emma felt that familiar shiver come over her again. She bowed her head, feeling confused and self-conscious and not sure why she was feeling either.

"Well," Sting opened his door and grinned at her, "I better get you back home before you turn into a pumpkin."

Emma laughed at that and waited as Sting opened her door and helped her out. They began to walk across the picturesque courtyard of her apartment building.

It wasn't long until they reached her front door. They drew to a stop and Emma found herself looking up at him, not sure what was going to happen next. She bit her lip, feeling nervous and even a little giddy.

"Thank you." she murmured.

"You're welcome." Sting grinned down at her.

His eyes suddenly lit up, "Oh, before I forget."

He reached behind his back, taking hold of something. As he brought his hand forward Emma was surprised to discover that he was holding a single white rose.

He presented it to her with a grand bow, causing her to giggle. She took the flower and smiled up at him sweetly.

"Smooth move." she joked, looking down at the rose.

"Here's another one." Sting replied as he took her hand in his.

Emma looked up at him, suddenly not feeling like laughing anymore. She watched on with hushed wonder as he brought her hand up and placed a warm kiss onto it. His gaze never left hers as he studied her with something unreadable in his dark eyes.

He lowered her hand, but didn't release it, "Goodnight, Em."

"Goodnight, Steve." she murmured.

He gave her hand a squeeze, grinned and let her go. Without another word he turned and walked away.

Emma leaned back against her door and watched after him, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Absently her hand found it's way to her chest, falling just above her heart.

All of those old feelings she used to have for him, before she had met him as the Insane Icon, came rushing back to her. She couldn't deny it. She was drawn to him.

What was wrong with her? He had teased her. Tormented her. Terrorized her.

And, when he realized he was wrong, he had turned around and apologized. Not only apologized, but went out of his way to show her just how sorry he was.

Not many people would do that.

Even as she tried to talk herself out of the feelings she was having she couldn't deny that the man she ran into at the Impact Zone at the beginning of the night was definitely not the same man she had sat down and spoke to, listened to, laughed with and danced with by the end of the night.

She had seen the man underneath the crazy face paint and the façade and she liked what she had discovered.

He was actually very charming. And kind. And thoughtful. And funny.

And handsome.

And fiery.

And sexy.

And she was in trouble.

She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. What was she thinking? She couldn't let herself get interested in him. It was a mistake.

There was too much going on in her life right now to be caught up in an infatuation with Steve.

She opened her eyes, thoughtful. She was already thinking of him as Steve and not Sting. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She pushed those thoughts aside and went back to the issues at hand.

No, nothing could come of this. She was dealing with Eric and her fight to get her manuscripts back.

Not to mention the fact that Steve was dealing with his own issues with Eric and Immortal. He needed to put all of his efforts into that. Not deal with her and her silly crush on him.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Except it wasn't a silly crush.

She didn't quite know what to call the unknown emotions welling up inside her. They definitely didn't have a particular name. It was too soon for that. But if things continued on like the way they had tonight. . .well, she knew where they would eventually lead.

No, she couldn't do it. There were just too many things to take into account.

She opened her eyes, growing melancholy. Most of all being that she didn't quite know where she stood with him. Granted, a man wouldn't have done the things he had done for her tonight without having some sort of feelings for her.

But he hadn't made a move. In fact, he hadn't even looked like he wanted to make a move.

Maybe it really had all been done in the spirit of friendship. And while that's not particularly where she would have liked to see things go, she knew she would just have to settle for that.

Besides, there were worst things than being friends with the Insane Icon.


	8. Part Eight: Common Shaky Ground

Sting pulled his black SUV into the parking lot of Holloway's Grille, a popular outdoor café. He cut the engine and climbed out of the vehicle, pocketing the keys.

As he walked through the café he spotted a familiar figure sitting a few feet away. A smile crossed his lips as he approached their table and slid into the seat across from them.

"Jack." he greeted the other man, extending his hand.

Jack returned the expression and shook the younger man's hand, "Sting."

"So I've been watching the show." he offered a sly smile, "You seem to be getting around."

Sting's eyes fell to the table top and he nodded, chuckling, "Yeah, well, a guy's gotta keep busy."

"That you have." Jack gave him a wink, "And sticking it to Bischoff while you're at it."

Sting's met his gaze, the wrestler at once serious, "That's the plan."

"So I take it this meeting wasn't just a friendly call." Jack leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, smiling, "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering," Sting leaned in close, his voice dropping, "You wouldn't still have your keys to the Impact Zone, would you?"

"No" Jack shook his head, explaining, "Bischoff's goons took those from me before I left."

He began to grin, "Good thing they didn't know about my spare set."

"You don't mind if I borrow them, do you?" Sting asked with a smirk.  
"Of course not." Jack told him, "I've got them back at the house. We can go get them after I buy you lunch."

"You don't have to do that-" Sting started to object but Jack cut him off.

"Don't try arguing with an old man, son." Jack gave him a grin, "You won't win. Besides, it's the least I can do for all you're trying to do for me and everyone else there."

Sting bowed his head, moved by the other man's words, "Okay. Thanks, Jack."

"Think nothing of it." Jack picked up his menu and started looking it over.

Sting did the same, making a note to order something inexpensive.

"So how are things going there?" Jack asked as he looked over his list of options.

"About as good as can be expected," Sting muttered, "Considering that Bischoff is still in charge."

"That'll change soon enough." Jack looked up at him, growing serious, "I was sorry to see Bischoff cheat you out of your title shot against Anderson. And using that little girl to do it, too."

"Yeah, me, too." Sting replied quietly as he closed his menu and lightly tapped it against the palm of his hand.

Jack returned to his menu and added nonchalantly, "Kinda surprised to see you go after her, though, when Bischoff should've been your real target."

Sting looked up at him, watching him closely from behind his shades. The older man wasn't fooling anyone with that casual tone.

"I wanted answers from her." he replied evenly.

"And it looks like you got them." Jack smiled over at him.

Sting couldn't help but chuckle at that, "Yeah I did, didn't I?"

"Kind of a shame, though." Jack finished looking over his menu and closed it, setting it on the table, "Scaring a pretty little thing like that. Nice kid, that girl."

"Yeah." Sting nodded, thoughtful, "Yeah, she is."

"Have to be a saint to put up with the likes of Bischoff."

Sting let out a sigh, growing tired of the older man's runaround comments, "Is there something you're getting at, Jack?"

"Me? No." Jack shrugged, "I'm just an old man rambling. Don't listen to me."

Sting regarded him for a few seconds before finally letting the matter drop. The waitress approached their table at that moment and they gave her their orders. As she walked away, Jack once again fixed his attention on the wrestler.

"So what do you have in mind for Bischoff?" he inquired.

Sting began to smirk as he thought about his upcoming plans.

"Sorry, Jack," he told the other man cryptically, "It'd be better if you didn't know."

"I understand." Jack nodded, "Element of surprise. If you told me you'd have to kill me. That sort of thing."

"Something like that." Sting laugh quietly.

He leaned in close, adding, "I will say this though. It's gonna be a heck of a surprise."

.

.

.

.

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"Thanks, Tori." Emma nodded to the stagehand, "I'll let Eric know about the changes."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Tori joked.

"Yeah." Emma sighed, but then she laughed good-naturedly.

She bid the other woman goodbye and turned and walked away. There was a spring in her step, her chin a bit higher. Since her dinner with Sting she felt as though a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She felt free for the first time in six months.

"Em."

Emma drew to a stop, her smile growing. As did the butterflies in her stomach. She turned around and beamed as Sting approached her.

She still couldn't believe it. If someone had told her two weeks ago that she would actually feel something besides trepidation and fear at the sight of Insane Icon she would have told them they were crazy. And yet here it was.

"Hey, Steve." she greeted him warmly

He drew to a stop, taking in her new attitude. There was a definite change about her now. She looked happier. Brighter. It looked good on her.

"Getting ready for the show?" he asked her and something about his tone instantly got her curious.

"Yeah." she said slowly, looking up at him closely, "What did you do?"

Sting pointed to himself, feinting hurt, "Me? Emma, I'm shocked. Would I do something?"

"In a heartbeat." Emma laughed.

She began to grow serious, worry bubbling up in her, "Just be careful, okay."

He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. Emma bit her lip as she watched his lips grace her skin. She could feel her cheeks warming as he pressed his mouth to her flesh. A spark rose up from the touch to slowly travel up her arm.

She had to admit the man was a charmer. Even when he was cooking up trouble.

She just wished she knew where she stood with him.

"Now why would I want to do that?" he asked her, his voice low.

He gave her a wink, released her hand and sauntered off.

Emma watched after him, equal parts worried and pleased. While she was glad they were now friends, she still couldn't help but be concerned about him going up against Eric and Immortal. She knew he could handle himself, but that still didn't stop her from worrying.

"Well, well, well."

Emma blinked and spun around, finding Tara and Brooke approaching her. They looked at Sting's retreating back before turning back to her with knowing smiles.

"After what happened last week," Tara replied as the two Knockouts approached, "The last thing I would have expected was to see the two of you looking so. . .friendly."

Emma felt a blush warm her cheeks and she ducked her head, shrugging, "We finally found some common ground."

"Oh, yeah?" Brooke grinned, "What a difference a week makes."

"Emma, we're just teasing." Tara laughed and bumped her arm.

The smaller woman looked up at them and began to smile.

"I'm glad you two finally got everything worked out." Tara told her sincerely, "I don't know from personal experience, but I can imagine it's better having Sting as a friend than an enemy."

"Tons better." Emma agreed, laughing.

"Of course," Brooke interjected, thoughtful, "You kinda looked like you're a little more than just friends."

Emma felt her blush increase and she replied adamantly, "No. No, we're only friends."

"Too bad." Brooke sighed wistfully as she looked in the direction Sting had left, "Because if it was me-"

"We all know what you would do if it were you." Tara cut in, but did so jokingly.

"Yeah, well you know what they say." Brooke began to smirk, "_Carpe diem_. Or in this case _carpe _Sting."

"And on that note," Tara grabbed a hold of Brooke's arm and began to lead her down the hallway, "We need to go get ready for our tag match tonight."

"All right." Emma smiled after them, "Good luck."

"Thanks." the Knockouts chorused as they walked away.

Emma watched them for a moment before sighing and shaking her head, her smile thoughtful. Brooke was right about one thing. What a difference a week could make.

She clasped her clipboard to her chest and continued on down the hall, a faraway look in her eyes and a slight smile on her lips.

Something clicked in her mind and her smiled began to fade. She just wished she knew what Sting had up his sleeve. Whatever it was, it could only spell trouble for Eric and Immortal. And that, in turn, would only spell trouble for Sting.

She hated to admit it, but she admired his sense of abandon of his own safety when it came to Immortal. No matter what happened, no matter how hard Immortal would hit back, he just kept coming. His refusal to stop until they were gone was actually awe inspiring.

She also admired his courage. She only wished she could be as brave.

The sounds of 'Slay Me' suddenly echoed over the arena. At the tune Emma's head instantly rose, her eyes widening in surprise. She heard the audience cheer and knew that Sting must be making his way down to the arena.

She hurried over to the monitors, watching on as the Icon, himself, climbed into the ring and took a mic from Christy. By the twinkle in his eye and the grin on his face, she knew he was up to something particularly cunning.

"Oh, man!" Sting called out to the crowd, "I've got to tell you, it's been one heck of a week. Beat up Immortal. Kidnapped a woman. Found out she was innocent. Got the crap kicked out of me by Immortal. Ups. Downs. Man, what a time!"

He looked into the camera and winked, "Hi, Emma."

Emma felt her face warm and she bowed her head in embarrassment. It didn't stop the small smile that found it's way to her lips, though.

A few of the wrestlers, who were also watching, looked at one another. Some in confusion, some with curious smiles. They glanced over at Emma questioningly before turning their attention back to the monitors.

"Oh!" Sting's eyes lit up as he seemed to remember something, "The best part. I had a nice dinner. A very nice dinner."

Emma looked up at the monitor, her blush growing. At this rate her face would turn red permanently.

"I wanna tell you a little _story_, Bischoff." the wrestler smirked into the camera, "You like _stories_, dontcha, Bischoff? Actually, I'm not much of a _writer_. So instead of telling you the story, why don't I just show you."

Emma's eyes widened. He didn't. . .He wouldn't have. . .

But sure enough the monitor cut to the bistro. And there was Sting, standing front and center.

She couldn't believe it. There had been a hidden camera in the restaurant the entire time?

_ Sting looked towards the direction of the hidden camera and rubbed his hands together, chuckling anxiously, "I'm just a little nervous. I got a dinner guest coming soon, except she doesn't know she's the guest of honor."_

_ And soon there she was, entering the restaurant. From there the entire evening began to play out._

_ "I'm not working for Eric." Emma was saying, "Not the way you think. Look, I'm just an assistant, okay. I get coffee, make copies and check and make sure that the shows are running the way Eric wants."_

_ She sighed, "I just want to put in my time and then I'll be out of your hair."_

_ Sting asked her what she meant and she began to tell him what had happened between herself and Eric. Everything came out. The whole disastrous story._

Emma's eyes widened in alarm. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief. No, no this couldn't be happening. This was her private business! Her story to tell, which she never would have done.

It had been one thing to tell Sting. He had somehow made her feel at ease and safe to talk to. But for everyone to know now. . .

"That jerk!" Velvet gasped as she listened to Emma's story.

"It's almost exactly like what he did to Dixie." Jeremy Borash sighed.

Suddenly Eric appeared on the ramp, his face red with rage. At his unexpected arrival the crowd began to boo him heavily.

But it didn't see to deter the Impact owner as he glared up at Sting, "Stop that footage! Stop it right now, dammit! I didn't authorize that to play!"

Sting shook his head, "No, no, no. Wait, Eric. We're getting to the best part."

He pointed to the monitor and it cut to later in the evening.

_ "There is one way I can get my work back." Emma was looking away, appearing as though she would be sick at any moment, "Eric said he would tear up the contract if I would. . .If I would sleep with him."_

_ She turned back to Sting, "But I would never do that. I mean, I want out of this contract in the worst way but I could never. . .Especially not with a cretin like him. I just can't do it."_

_ She began to smile coldly, "And he knows that. I think he takes some sort of twisted pleasure out of it. Like he knows he has me trapped."_

Emma's eyes slammed shut. Oh, God, not that! Eric was going to make her life a living hell now for sure!

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see James Storm looking down at her with sympathy, "You want me to send a Last Call Superkick to Bischoff's glass jaw, Shorty?"

"I. . ." Emma was at a loss for words, "No. N-No, thank you."

"I wish we would have known." AJ added, "We could've tried to help somehow."

Emma didn't know what to say. Right now she just wanted to go far away. Having everything revealed like this was almost too much. She felt too open. Too exposed.

She was always dealt with her own problems by herself. She was never one to ask for help unless it was absolutely necessary. Call it pride, call it her trying to be responsible, she didn't know. So having her issues with Eric out in the open like that just made her feel vulnerable.

But she found it didn't stop there.

The video cut again, this time to them dancing.

_ Emma was smiling up at Sting. She took his hand and he led her out onto the dance floor. He gave her a little turn before pulling her close into a dance. Emma ended up laying her cheek against his chest, her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. She snuggled closer to him as they swayed to the music._

"Aw," Tara and Brooke chorused while Mickie James gushed, "How sweet!"

Emma's hand flew to her mouth, the smaller woman mortified. She looked like a lovesick schoolgirl!

And what about the Insane Icon, himself? His expression was unreadable. Emma felt her annoyance rise over that. So what was this? What had that night meant to him? Nothing?

Of course it had meant something. Just not the same thing to her. No, this was just his way to expose Eric and get under his skin some more.

She felt her heart thump painfully in her chest. But why did he have to use her to do it?

Out in the ring Sting watched, taking note of the look on Emma's face as they had danced. The happiness. The peace. She looked exactly how he had felt at that moment. How he was still feeling.

That settled it. After he was done out there he was going to find her and tell her how he felt about her. He wasn't going to hold back any longer.

"Cut that damned tape right now!" Eric roared as he stormed down the ramp and made his way up into the ring.

Sting straightened up from off of the ropes and began to grin. Things were about to get interesting.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Eric demanded.

"I think I'm the guy who just showed the world what a lowlife, dirt bag you are." Sting smirked down at him, "And I'll tell you who I'm not. I'm not a guy who has to blackmail a woman to try and get her to sleep with him."

The crowd began to cheer at that and shout "You suck!" to Eric.

He looked over at them with constricted eyes before turning to glare back up at Sting. The wrestler could practically see the hamster wheel in Eric's mind turning.

Slowly Bischoff began to smirk, "You think anyone's going to believe those lies?"

Sting looked away and shook his head, laughing at that. So that was how Bischoff was going to play it.

Eric momentarily sneered at the other man's response but the smile quickly returned as he added, "Look at me, Sting. I'm not like you. I'm rich. I'm handsome. I'm charming. I can get any woman I want. I don't need to blackmail anyone. Do you think for one second that anyone is going to believe the lies of that little bitch over someone like me?"

Sting regarded him silently, lips pursed as he thought.

He glanced over at the audience and replied, "I don't know. Do you believe the garbage coming out of Bischoff's mouth?"

He pointed the microphone towards the crowd as they began to scream "No!" and "Boo!".

He turned back to Bischoff, a Cheshire grin on his lips as he said with exaggeration, "That would be a noooo."

And then he suddenly hauled off and leveled Eric with a vicious punch. The other man hit the canvas with a thud, unconscious from the blow.

Sting leaned over him, the grin still in place but a coolness in his eyes, "That's for calling her names. I still owe you for trying to blackmail her."

And with that he dropped the mic onto Eric's chest, climbed out of the ring and began to make his way to the back.

The only thing he wanted to do right then was find Emma.

He exited through the curtain, some of the wrestlers and crew greeting and nodding to him. He acknowledged them but continued on as he searched for Emma.

He eventually found her standing by herself. Her back was to him and she was leaning against the wall, hugging her clipboard to her chest.

He walked over to her, playfully flipping her hair as he came to stand in front of her.

He grinned down at her, "So did you like my little home movie?"

She slowly looked up at him and he could see the frown on her face and the anger in her eyes. It looked like she didn't shared his jovial attitude. She didn't shared it at all.

"Tell me you didn't do all of that," Emma all but pleaded, "The restaurant, my favorite foods, the music, all of that. . .Tell me you didn't do that just to get me to open up. Tell me you didn't do all of that so that you could have something on Eric and try to get under his skin."

Before Sting could answer she took a step back and raised her hand. She shook her head and began to laugh coldly, "What am I saying? Of course you did."

She glared up at him, that icy smile still on her lips, "My God, I am such an idiot! I bought everything you said and did hook, line and sinker. I actually thought we had found some sort of common ground. I had actually started to. . ."

Her voice trailed off and she looked away, grateful that she had stopped before she made an even bigger fool of herself. She wasn't about to tell him what she had started to feel for him. She would rather work for Eric for a hundred years than admit that.

She turned on her heels and started to storm off. She got about two steps before Sting grabbed her arm, turning her back around.

"Started to what?" he demanded as he took hold of her chin and forced her to look up at him.

Emma turned her head, slipping out of his grasp.

She shook her head, her voice soft and filled with the hurt she had tried and failed to hide, "It doesn't matter now. It wasn't real."

She pulled free from his grip and quickly walked away.

Sting watched after her, his body humming with anger. He wanted to go after her, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. She was in no mood to listen to him.

How could she think he would use her? Did she have such a low opinion of him? Did she honestly think he would do whatever it took to get to Bischoff?

He had wanted to stick it to Eric, but not the way she thought. He wanted everyone to know what exactly he had done to Emma. He wanted everyone to see what a lowlife, dirt bag the guy was.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn't have gone about it the way he had. Maybe he should have asked her if she wanted to come forward before setting up the camera and letting it roll.

He leaned back against the wall and sighed, milling it over.

He guessed he could see it from her side. He had to admit that in retrospect he did look a little suspicious. And, to be fair, he really should have told her about his plans first. He should have let it be her decision whether or not to roll the tape.

But it hadn't been his intent to hurt her. Or embarrass or humiliate her. That was the last thing he had ever wanted to do to her.

He'd let her cool down. Then he'd go find her and they could hash everything out.

"Sting!" Tori came racing up to him at that moment, "Sting, Mr. Anderson is getting jumped by Immortal down at ringside!"

Without a word, Sting turned and raced back towards the ring. As soon as he emerged from the curtain the crowd began to go nuts.

They cheered him as he jumped into the ring, pulled his bat out of his trench coat and began to go after Immortal.

For a while he and Mr. Anderson were holding their own. But then the tide turned when Eric slipped a steel chair into the ring and Jeff used it to take out both Sting and Mr. Anderson. As Mr. Anderson fell out of the ring Immortal turned their attention onto the downed Icon. They began to level him with fists and feet.

.

.

.

.

.

"Emma," Tara came running up to the other woman as she exited the ladies' room, "Emma, Immortal is attacking Sting!"

Without a thought, Emma took off for ringside. As she emerged through the curtain, out onto the ramp, she drew to a dead stop and looked to the ring in horror.

There was Sting, doing what he could against Immortal. He was able to get a few good blows in, but in the end he found himself on the canvas, laying against the ropes.

"No!" Emma yelled and raced down to the ring, "No, stop! Stop this! Please!"

Bully sent another kick to Sting's gut and took a step back, grinning victoriously. Something caught his eye and he turned slightly. His smile began to grow.

Laying in the middle of the ring was Sting's bat.

He turned back to Sting with something dark in his eyes before taking a few steps back and reaching for the bat.

Emma saw Bully Ray pick up the bat and her heart all but stopped. She looked over at Sting, hoping he had seen, as well. But he was still slumped against the ropes, his head down. He appeared to be out.

An evil gleam came to Bully's eye as he gripped the bat tightly in his hand and began to beat it against the sides of his boots. He took a few practice swings before stepping up to Sting.

"No!" Emma screamed, but the sound was lost among the sea of cheers and boos from the crowd.

Instinct set in and she, not thinking, climbed into the ring and took off for Sting's side. As she threw herself across him Bully Ray swung the bat with all of his might.

It slammed into her back with unrelenting force. Emma let out a groan and slumped against Sting, her eyes sliding closed. Her head fell onto his shoulder and her body went lax as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Immortal froze, looking at one another in alarm.

"What did you do?" Eric roared, shoving Bully back a step.

Bully dropped the bat and raised his hands, "I didn't do nothing! She jumped in front of the bat!"

Eric stared down at Emma, panicked. No matter what was going on, the last thing he had wanted was for her to get hurt. Not like this.

He took a step back and raked his hands through his hair before turning to the ramp and yelling out, "Someone get some help down here! Damnit, get some help!"

But help came in the form of a 6'8", 350 pound monster called Abyss. He came tearing down the ramp and into the ring, attacking the members of Immortal left and right.

Eric quickly dove out of the ring, narrowly avoiding the wrestler's wrath. He looked up at the ring with wide eyes, watching on in horror as Abyss grabbed a hold of Gunner and chokeslammed the other man onto the canvas.

Bully Ray went to attack him from behind but Abyss sensed his approach and spun around, leveling the wrestler when a forearm.

Jeff Jarrett quickly left the ring, joining Eric on the ramp. He grabbed a hold of the Impact owner's arm and tried to pull him towards the back.

Eric looked at Emma one last time before turning and hurrying with Jeff behind the curtain.

While that was going on Sting let out a groan and slowly opened his eyes. As his head began to clear he looked down to discover an unconscious Emma laying against him.

Panic washed over him as his arms wrapped around her waist and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her back to get a better look at her. Hand shaking, he reached around and brushed her hair out of her face, examining her.

"Emma?" he called out to her, his voice shaking slightly, "Em! Em, come on, wake up!"

A thud echoed over the arena and the ring shook. Sting looked up briefly to see that Scott Steiner was laid out in the center of the ring, Abyss standing over him. The monster glared down at him hatefully, his chest heaving.

Sting turned his attention back to Emma. He stood up, his arms still locked around her waist as he held her up. Her head was drooped against his chest.

Abyss looked over, his eyes landing on the still unconscious woman. Rage flowed through him and he stormed across the ring to where Sting and Emma were.

He grabbed a hold of Emma, yanking her out of Sting's arms. Sting's own fury kicked in and he made a grab for her, meaning to get her away from the monster and to where she could get some help.

But Abyss shoved the other man away with so much force that it caused Sting to trip over the still fallen Gunner and land back against the ropes. He was just starting to rise to his feet when Abyss carefully laid Emma across his shoulder and climbed over the ropes. As he jumped to the ground he swung her back around, one arm going under her knees and the other across her back. He then started storming back up the ramp, disappearing behind the curtain.

Sting sprinted out of the ring and hurried up the ramp. He tore through the curtain, his brown eyes darting back and forth as he tried to spot Abyss. He broke into a run as he raced through the hallway, desperate to reach Emma.

As he approached a corner he could hear the sounds of men yelling. He quickened his pace and darted around, spotting Abyss up ahead.

The monster was backed into a corner, still cradling an unconscious Emma in his arms. A few referees and officials formed a semi circle around him, trying to talk him into letting her go. A couple of EMTs stood behind them, watching with trepidation. And beside them was a camera crew, filming the entire dramatic scene.

"Come on, Abyss." Al Snow tried to reason with the distraught man, "We're not going to hurt her. Just hand her over so that the EMTs can help her."

"Stay away from her!" Abyss roared, his hold on Emma tightening.

Sting pushed past the EMTs and started to make his way to the front of the group. As he started to slip past one of the refs, Brain Hebner, the smaller man grabbed his arm.

"I'd stay away from him, Stinger." he told the wrestler, "The guy's crazy."

Sting gave him a chilling look and Brian, uneasy, quickly removed his hand from the wrestler's arm. Sting turned back to Abyss and Emma, his eyes immediately going to the woman in the monster's arms. He felt sick at the sight of her. She looked so small, so fragile.

"Chris," he reluctantly turned his attention back to the monster, knowing that he needed to reach him if he wanted to get help for Emma, "Chris, you have to let her go. You have to let the EMTs help her."

"You did this to her!" Abyss all but howled.

"Immortal did this to her!" Sting yelled, his control snapping for a moment.

He closed his eyes briefly and willed himself to calm down. Giving in to his fear and anger right now wouldn't help Emma. He needed to regain control if he had chance of reaching Abyss.

"Chris, look at her." Sting motioned to the unconscious woman, "Look at her!"

Abyss looked down at Emma and pain instantly filled his dark eyes.

"I know you're her friend." Sting went on, "And you're a good one. You want to protect her. But she's hurt right now and she needs help."

Abyss pulled her closer to his chest, his hold on her tightening.

"Come on, man!" Sting went on, his voice catching slightly as his panic started to show through, "What if it was you? What would Emma do if you were hurt?"

Abyss continued to stare down at Emma and Sting feared that he would never hand her over.

But then he slowly looked over at Sting. After a few heart stopping moments he eventually, hesitantly, handed her over to the other man. Without missing beat Sting turned around and laid her on the waiting gurney. He backed away, raking his hands through his hair as he watched the EMTs go to her and begin to check her out.

They shouted instructions to one another and began to run the gurney over to the waiting ambulance. They hopped inside and it was soon tearing out of the parking lot.

Sting was about to go after them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find Abyss glaring at him, his chest heaving in rage.

"This is your fault." the monster growled, "She's hurt because of you."

Sting's jaw tightened but he didn't say a word. The truth was he thought as much, himself. Granted, he hadn't been the one to swing the bat but she wouldn't have been hurt if she hadn't been trying to protect him.

"I know." he finally replied, his tone quiet.

Abyss appeared surprised by that. It were as though he was expecting him to deny it. Or at least put up some kind of fight.

He gave him a parting glare but said no more and stalked off.

Sting turned back in the direction the ambulance had gone. He cupped his hands behind his head and tilted his head up, his eyes closing.


	9. Part Nine: New Beginnings

Emma laid in the hospital bed that night, looking up at the ceiling. Though the doctors had given her painkillers for her back it still hurt.

Luckily there wasn't any permanent damage. No broken bones. Just some deep bruising.

The doctors wanted to keep her overnight, mainly because the injury had caused her to pass out. She had tried to get them to let her go home but they had been adamant. So this was where she was going to have to stay for the night.

She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to get into a comfortable position. She grit her teeth and hissed as she awkwardly turned onto her side.

Suddenly she felt a pair of hands help her and her eyes flew open. She looked up to find Abyss standing there, donning a brown hoodie that hid his face from her view.

"Chris." Emma panted from the pain, surprised to see him there.

Abyss quickly removed his hands, stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket. He turned his head away, the hoodie covering more of his face. He glanced down at the ground, appearing unsure and even a little timid.

"I wanted to see how you were." he took a step back, meaning to leave.

Emma reached out and touched his arm, giving him a small smile, "Thank you for coming to visit me."

Abyss ducked away from her and shrugged, his eyes still downward, "How are you feeling?"

"My back hurts." Emma admitted, "But it's nothing a few days rest and some Tylenol won't cure. Luckily it's nothing serious."

"I'm glad." Abyss dared to look at her and he even slowly reached out to take her hand in his.

But the touch was fleeting and he quickly let go, his hand once more going into his pocket. It were as though he was scared to touch her. Or maybe he felt like he shouldn't.

"Why don't you stay for a while." Emma motioned to the chair that stood near her beside, "Keep me company until I can fall asleep."

He studied her for a few moments before slowly sinking into the chair. Emma leaned back against the pillows and offered him another smile.

"I'm sorry they hurt you." he told her quietly.

"Yeah, that wasn't one of my favorite nights at Impact." Emma tried to joke with him, but he didn't return her smile.

"You shouldn't've gone down there." he told her, anger beginning to creep into his voice.

Emma glanced down at the blanket, pondering that. She had been going over her actions that night since she had woken up in the hospital. After Sting had been attacked _and _before. There was a lot she had been trying to work out.

She eventually looked up and offered what she hoped was a bright smile, "Well I heard you were quite the hero tonight. They told me you carried me out of the ring and got me to safety."

She grew serious and reached out to him, whispering, "Thank you."

Abyss looked down at her hand hesitantly. Was it just her imagination or did he look a little. . .guilty?

"I. . ." he shrugged his massive shoulders, "I wasn't much help. I. . ."

"He did everything he could to make sure you were okay."

Both Emma and Abyss turned to find Sting standing in the doorway. He slipped his shades into the collar of his shirt and stepped into the room and over to the foot of the hospital bed.

He looked at Emma silently, his face betraying nothing. Emma had to admit she was surprised to see him there.

Surprised and surprisingly thankful.

"He looked out for you back there." Sting told her, his eyes going to Abyss for a moment for returning to her.

Abyss continued to watch him in surprise. He slowly rose to his feet, eyes suddenly cast to the ground, as he replied quietly, "Sting's the one who helped you. He made sure the EMTs got you to the hospital. I've got to go."

And without another word the large man left the room, closing the door behind him.

Emma watched after him in confusion before turning back to Sting. They regarded one another silently for a few moments, neither saying a word.

"Would you like to sit down?" she offered hesitantly, motioning to the chair.

Sting took up Abyss' old position in the chair. Reaching out, he laid a hand on her arm and rubbed it.

Emma had to admit, she liked feeling the touch of his hand. Despite everything that had happened it made her feel comforted and safe. That confused her. And worried her some.

Sting had told himself he was going to keep things simple. He was just going to go in, check on her and leave.

But seeing her lying there in that hospital bed. . .

She had put on a brave face for Abyss, even going so far as to smile, but he could see that beneath the surface she was in pain. And it was because of that that he couldn't help himself. He had to touch her. Whether it was to reassure himself that she was there and all right or because he just needed to connect with her again in some way, he didn't know. He only knew that he had had to do it.

"How are you feeling?" he questioned her as his hand fell away.

"I'll be all right." she assured him, "I just need to rest for a few weeks."

Sting glanced down at the bedspread, his lips pursed in thought. Now that he knew she was going to be all right, he had so many things he wanted to say to her. There were so many emotions running through him. He didn't know where to start.

"I'm sorry you were hurt." he murmured, his eyes meeting hers.

Emma shrugged as best she could, flinching at the effort, "It's not your fault."

"What were you thinking," Sting demanded, "Jumping in there like that?"

"I wasn't." Emma admitted, "I just. . .I saw you were hurt and Bully was going to hit you and I just. . .I just reacted."

"Why?"

Emma paused, thoughtful. That was the million dollar question. It had been instinctual for her really. The moment Tori had told her that Sting was being hurt she just reacted. It was true when she went down to ringside and it was true when she jumped into the ring and covered him before he could be hit. For her it had been the right thing to do.

And it had been instinctual because she cared for him. Maybe more than she could admit.

"You're my friend." she told him, honestly meaning it.

Sting didn't say anything at first. There was that word. 'Friend'. He didn't entirely know how he felt about that.

Granted, he was glad that she could consider him a friend after everything that had happened. But he didn't want to be just friends with her. He wanted more.

"You sure about that?" he regarded her evenly, "Friends trust each other."

Emma bit her lip and looked down. He was right. Friends were supposed to trust one another. That night at the bistro, after she had confided everything to him, she had told herself that she could trust him. That she would trust him. But what had she done instead? Jumped to the worst case scenario the first chance she had gotten.

"I don't trust very easily." she confessed, daring to look up at him.

"I can understand that." Sing nodded, "After what Bischoff's done to you, I can see why."

He leaned in close, taking her hand in his. At that she instantly looked up at him, unsure and curious about what was going to happen next.

"But I'm not Bischoff." he told her seriously, "And that dinner was my way of apologizing."

"And the hidden camera?" Emma questioned, confusion and frustration beginning to well up inside of her, "Why? Why did you film that night?"

Sting inhaled. She had a right to be angry. He wouldn't deny her that. But she had to know the truth. All of it. Then it would have to be up to her if she wanted to trust him again or not. He hoped she would. The fact that she could still consider him a friend gave him hope. The fact that she would put her body on the line for him made him believe that he still had a chance.

"It wasn't one of my more carefully thought out plans." he tried to joke with her, but she clearly wasn't in a joking mood.

He grew serious, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm sorry that you were hurt. Or that you felt humiliated. Emma, that was the last thing I wanted to do when I played that tape tonight."

Emma bit her lip and glanced down at their joined hands. She could see that he meant what he was saying.

"I meant it when I said I wanted everyone to know what Bischoff had done to you." he went on, "And I thought you might have wanted that, too. I was wrong and I'm sorry for that."

He leaned down, catching her eye. She looked up at him and he began to smile tenderly at her.

"I'm still learning about you." he told her, adding with emphasis, "I _want_ to keep learning about you."

Emma's eyes widened slightly. She didn't know what to make of that. Was it possible that he could actually care about her. More than she had first thought. . .?

She shoved those feeling aside. Therer were other things that still confused her. Answers that she needed to get from him.

"But why did you film that night to begin with?" she questioned him, still confused about his motives.

Sting absently brushed his thumb across the top of her hand. He needed to be straight with her. Tell her everything. He just hoped she could understand when he was finished.

"I would be lying if I said I hadn't gone into that night hoping to find out something." he answered her, "I knew something was going on with you. I just didn't know what."

He shook his head, "I couldn't understand why you were working for Bischoff. You've got more class and integrity in your little finger than those dirt bags have in their whole bodies.

"I thought he was holding something over you." he went on, "Blackmailing you. Emma, if it had turned out to be something that could have hurt you in the long run, or something that would have caused you more trouble, I wouldn't have shown it. But this, what you told me, I thought it would have been better to get it out in the open.

"I should have told you what I had planned." Sting admitted, "I should have asked you if you wanted to come forward and tell your story."

"That's right. _My _story. _My_ story to tell." Emma objected, "And I didn't want to tell it."

"Why?" Sting inquired, eyes narrowed in thought, "What are you so ashamed of? You didn't do anything wrong."

Emma slowly removed her hand from his grasp. Sting's own hand clenched at the suddenly emptiness but he remained where he was.

She looked down, at once uncertain and even a little timid, "I'm used to handling things myself. I don't like going to anyone for help."

She glanced up at him and smiled weakly, "Call it a soul deep stubbornness."

Sting smiled faintly at that but remained silent in a bid to keep her talking.

Emma looked out over the room and sighed, "I tend to keep things bottled up and to myself. . .I hide things away. So seeing my problems aired for all the world to see. . .it just really upset me.

"Acting cool and unaffected is kinda like my mask." she glanced over at him and laughed weakly, "And you kinda ruined that."

Sting's lips pursed, the wrestler thoughtful. He could understand that, as well. Maybe too well. He, himself, wore his own mask. A mask of silence for over a year when he went up against the NWO.

And he, as well, had done things on his own. So he could understand her reasons there, too.

"I get what you're saying, Emma." he replied, nodding, "I understand. But it's okay for you to ask for help sometimes. It doesn't make you weak."

Emma blinked, realizing he had hit the nail on the head. That was really what it all came down to. And that fact that he had caught it. . .Was he really just that perceptive or did he know her better than she thought?

She bit her lip and shrugged, "You're right. I. . .I don't want to be perceived as weak."

Sting shook his head and laughed lightly, "Sweetheart, the woman who jumped into the ring tonight and put herself in harm's way for me is anything but weak."

He pointed towards the door and went on, growing serious, "The woman who packed up everything and moved clear across the country to a strange city with no friends and no support system isn't weak."

He reached out and once more took her hand. He looked deeply into her eyes and replied adamantly, "You're stronger than you know."

Emma felt tears spring to her eyes at that, touched by his vote of confidence in her. It felt good to know that he felt that way. It actually made her feel a little stronger, for some strange reason.

She glanced down at their joined hands, hesitant, "I want to trust you."

"You can." Sting told her, giving her hand a squeeze, "But it has to be up to you, Emma. I can't make you trust me if you don't."

He unexpectedly pulled her closer, a devilish glint in his eyes as he started to sing, "You can't make your heart feel, something it won't. Here in the dark, in these final hours, I will lay down my heart. And I'll feel the power."

Emma began to laugh at his antics then. She couldn't help herself. He was just so crazy sometimes.

His hold on her hand tightened and suddenly she didn't feel like laughing anymore. Her smiled slowly faded away and the pair looked deeply into each other's eyes.

Emma felt her heartbeat speed up.

Sting's eyes slowly traveled from her pretty eyes to her mouth. Her teeth took hold of her bottom lip once more and at that second he wanted his own teeth on that lip. He wanted to know if it tasted as good as it looked.

"I. . ." Emma paused, still unsure.

_You're wrong, Steve_, she thought to herself, _I'm not as strong as you think. At least not where my heart is concerned._

"I believe you." she cleared her throat, getting back to the conversation at hand, "I believe you were only trying to help me. I know you didn't use me to try and get to Eric.

"And I trust you." she added quietly.

"You sure?" Sting looked at her closely.

"I trust you, Steve." Emma stated vehemently, her voice gaining volume.

"Looking in your eyes," he replied, "I can see that you mean it."

"I do." Emma promised.

"And I promise," Sting stated, "That I will never get you involved with another Immortal stunt again."

"Deal." Emma nodded, shaking his hand.

"Deal." Sting grinned.

There was a spark where their joined hands touched. It grew warm, traveling up their arms. It caused Emma's heart to beat faster, if that were possible. It made Sting want to pull her close and kiss her.

He started to lean in when Emma bowed her head and blushed, the young woman oblivious to his intentions.

Sting closed his eyes and forced himself to forget about want he wanted. It wasn't the right time and place. What she really needed right now was rest.

He slowly removed his hand and stood up. She looked up at him in surprise.

"You should get some sleep." he told her, motioned towards her pillow.

Emma leaned back, flinching ever so slightly. She offered him a small smile to reassure him that she was all right.

"Thank you for coming to see me." she murmured as her eyes began to close.

"Thank you for saving my butt." he cracked, earning a sleepy smile from her.

"Anytime." she sighed, looking up at him.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there for a moment before he reluctantly removed it and left the room.

Emma watched after him for a little while longer before her eyes slowly began to close. She let out a soft sigh as sleep waited to claim her.

If she let herself, she could fall for him. Hard.

And that frightened her more than anything else ever had before.

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Bully Ray walked through the halls of the Impact Zone the next day. Actually it wasn't really walking. It was more like strutting.

A crew member was making his way from the opposite direction. As the much small man approached Bully crossed to the other side of the hall and stopped, blocking his way.

"You're in my way." he growled down at the scrawny man, who looked up at him with eyes as large as saucers.

The man quickly ducked away, apologizing, "S-Sorry, Mr. Ray. I'm r-really sorry."

"Yeah, you better be!" Bully called after him.

He began to snicker to himself as he continued on. Sometimes he really loved being him. Okay, make that all the time.

As he continued on he noticed Tori making her way from the other side. In her hands were a stack of papers. At the sight of her he began to feel annoyed. He had asked her out countless times and the broad was always him down. Him! Clearly she had no taste.

As he passed her his hand reached out and slapped the papers out of her grasp. Tori gasped and quickly knelt down to retrieve them. She glared over her shoulder at the wrestler as he walked off, laughing uproariously.

Bully eventually rounded a corner and drew to a stop, his eyes narrowing. His cockiness began to fade away, quickly being replace with a deep uneasiness.

Up ahead, sitting on a few equipment cases, was Sting. He was decked out in his wrestling gear, Insane Icon face paint adorning his face. He was casually swinging his legs, hands clasped on his thighs. And that maniacal grin, which had become a staple of his over the last few months, was in place.

"Hello, Bully." Sting greeted him, his head cocked to one side, "Fancy meeting you here."

Bully looked around, noting just how alone he was. But then he began to realize that Sting was just as alone. He slowly turned back to the other man, a sneer coming to his lips. He slowly began to approach him.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded as he approached.

"Me?" Sting pointed to himself, eyebrows arched, "_Moi_?"

He looked around and began to chuckle, "Why I'm just sitting here."

He turned back to the other man and, despite the grin still on his lips, something dark flashed in his eyes as he added, "Waiting for you."

Bully swallowed, his uneasiness growing. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but Sting scared him. Correction. The old Sting scared him. This new, crazy Sting down right terrified him.

Puffing his chest out, Bully laughed coldly, "You think I'm afraid of you? I ain't afraid of you."

"You ain't afraid of me?" Sting repeated as he hopped off the cases, "You ain't afraid of me?"

Bully took a step back and he fought to control that fear that threatened to rise up from the pit of his stomach. He nervously glanced over his shoulder, hoping like hell someone from Immortal would be coming around the corner at any second.

But nobody came. And he was all alone.

With the Insane Icon.

Bully felt a burst of courage and he stepped forward, coming nose-to-nose with the other man, "That's right. I. Ain't. Afraid. Of you."

"You know, and I always say this," Sting replied with exaggerated flattery, "But nobody does bully better than you."

He continued to smirk as he added, "I don't want you afraid of me, Bully."

Bully blinked, surprised by that. His eyes began to constrict. Just what was this freak playing at?

"You don't?" he questioned, confused.

"No. I don't." Sting's grin turned sinister, "It's no fun if you're afraid."

Bully suddenly sent a blow to his jaw. Sting turned, falling against the equipment cases.

"Come on!" Bully yelled, fists raised, "Come on, you freak! You weirdo!"

Still turned away, Sting unexpectedly began to laugh. The sound grew and grew, becoming uproarious. Bully gulped and looked at him as though he were insane. Which he might have well been.

"Oh," Sting chuckled as his laughter began to die down, his back still to him, "I was hoping you would do that."

He slowly began to turn and that was when Bully noticed the baseball bat in his hand.

"You like baseball bats, don'tcha, Bully?" he questioned the other man with a smirk, "I think you do."

Bully took a nervous step back.

"I mean, you sure liked them when you used one to hit an innocent woman in the back." Sting took a step forward, his smile disappearing.

In fact his whole demeanor changed. Gone was the Clown Prince of the ring. In his place was somebody cold and calculating. Somebody who had complete control of his faculties.

Somebody very, very angry.

It was then that Bully Ray realized just how much trouble he was in.

"Hey, t-that was an accident!" he pointed to Sting, "That dumb broad got in my way. I didn't mean to hit her!"

Sting turned his head to the side and motioned to his ear, "Did I just hear you right? Did you just call her a 'dumb broad'?"

He looked back at the other man and shook his head, clucking his tongue, "Bully, Bully, Bully. Big mistake."

He slowly began to smile, "But I'll tell you what. Since you're still here I'll give you a free shot. One free shot on the house."

Bully looked at him in disbelief. The guy had to be playing him.

Sting raised his arms in the air. Suddenly, without warning, he dropped the bat.

Bully didn't waste any time. He rushed forward and aimed a punch at the other man's jaw. But Sting blocked the blow easily and answered with one of his own. Before Bully could even move Sting sent another blow to him. And another. And another. Soon Bully was on the ground, the Insane Icon leaning over him.

He playfully slapped Bully's cheek, trying to get the other man to come around. As he did Sting reached over and retrieved the bat. He straightened and looked down at Bully, the bat raised in his hand.

Methodically, he brought it down to the fallen man's stomach and began to trail it upward until it stopped just under his chin. He gently tapped it against Bully's chin, causing the other man to look up at him. Sting saw he was both angry and fearful. Bully, too, took in Sting's own expression. He was suddenly very dark, very sullen.

"If you ever hurt her again," the Icon told him, his voice dangerously soft, "Accident or not, you're a dead man."

And without another word, Sting turned and began to make his way down the corridor. The only sound to be heard came from his footfalls as they echoed over the silence.


	10. Part Ten: Battle Lines are Drawn

Emma leaned back against her couch, absently flipping through the TV channels. There was still ten minutes to go until the show and she was just killing time.

She was surprised by how much she wished she were there. She couldn't have said or even thought that a few months ago. But now, more than anything, she wishes she could go back.

But she still had a few weeks to go. After that, the doctors had said she was cleared to return to work. She couldn't wait!

Her eyes slowly traveled to her notebook, which sat untouched on the coffee table. A frown crossed her features as she picked it up and began to leaf through it. There were page after page of story notes. Little details. Sweeping scenes. Outlines. Everything.

There had been a time when she was never without her notebook. Couldn't be without it. The ideas would just hit her and she had to write them down then and there.

But now. . .

Her frown grew as she sighed and tossed it back onto the table.

The doorbell rang and she climbed to her feet and hurried over to the door. As she opened it she found a smiling Tara standing there. The female wrestler was leaning on a crutch, her right knee covered with a brace.

"Hi." Emma greeted her warmly and quickly moved aside to let her enter.

"Hey." Tara entered the front room and hobbled over to the couch.

She took a seat and Emma promptly sat a cushion on the coffee table. Tara gave her a grateful smile as she gingerly propped her injured leg up.

"Thanks." she told Emma as the other woman joined her on the couch.

"No problem." Emma smiled at her, "So how is the knee doing?"

"The doctors said it'll be a few weeks." Tara let out a sigh, "They want me to take it easy."

"So aside from that," Emma gave her a teasing grin, "How was the house show?"

"Oh fabulous." Tara laughed, "Couldn't have been better."

"Great." Emma giggled.

She turned the channel and suddenly the Impact opening credits began to play.

"Ugh, I wish I was there!" Tara bemoaned.

Emma reached out and patted her shoulder, completely relating.

The cameras panned out over the crowd in the Impact Zone. Suddenly the sounds of 'Slay Me' came playing out, instantly getting Emma's attention.

Tara glanced over at her friend, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She watched as Emma leaned forward in her seat, keenly interested in the show.

The second Sting appeared on the ramp a soft smile came to the smaller woman's lips. It grew as the Insane Icon made his way down to the ring and climbed in.

"So," Tara inquired casually, "How are things going with you and Sting?"

"Fine." Emma nodded, looking over at the other woman for a second before turning back to the screen.

"Huh." Tara considered that, "And that's all. Just. . .fine?"

"Yeah." Emma began to smile, "Is there anything wrong with 'fine'?"

"No, no." Tara shook her head, "I just assumed you two were, you know, more than fine."

Emma blinked, finally realizing what the other woman was getting at.

"No." she promptly told her, shaking her head vehemently, "No, we're not. . .I mean, we're only friends."

"You're kidding right?" Tara looked at her in disbelief.

"No." Emma shrugged, ducking her head, "It's not that I don't like him. . ."

She began to smile, thoughtful, "I mean, what's not to like? He's kind. And thoughtful. And funny."

Tara gave her a look, as if to say, "That's all?"

Emma ducked away and laughed, "He's also daring, an amazing wrestler, charismatic and gorgeous. Happy?"

"Now you're talking." Tara grinned but soon grew serious, "So really? That's all there is to you two?"

Emma bit her lip and glanced down at her hands, "I care for him. A lot."

But even as she said that, she knew it wasn't the entire truth. She couldn't lie to Tara. And she definitely couldn't lie to herself anymore.

She closed her eyes and admitted softly, "I think I'm falling in love with him."

Tara beamed at her friend, "Aw! That's great!"

"So why haven't you done anything about it yet?" she asked, playfully whacking her on the arm, "Sting, despite his little turn on the crazy side, is a great catch."

Emma turned once more to the TV, watching as Sting went head-to-head with Jeff Jarrett. Suddenly Scott Steiner tried to cheap shot him, but Sting got the upper hand and knocked the bigger man out of the ring. Jarrett used that opportunity to hit Sting across the back.

But the other man simply turned and looked at him. He actually began to laugh. Before Jeff could say or do anything Sting hit him with a clothesline, knocking him, too, out of the ring.

Jeff and Scott scurried away, leaving the Icon victorious.

Emma let out a sigh, happy that he was all right but also a little worried about his safety.

"He'd dealing with Immortal right now." she replied thoughtfully, "All of his attention should be focused on them."

"Bull." Tara challenged, "What's the real reason?"

Emma looked over at her, eyebrows arched, "That is the real reason."

Tara just watched her silently, clearly not buying it.

Emma began to hedge, "Well, that's part of the reason."

She rose from her seat and absently wandered over to the window. Arms wrapped around herself, she looked out over the courtyard but didn't really see it.

"I'm afraid." she admitted softly, "I'm falling for him. Hard. And it frightens me."

She turned back to her friend, clarifying, "I've never been in love before. This is all so new and scary for me."

Tara smiled good-naturedly, "It can be. But it can be pretty great, too. Why don't you give him a chance?"

Emma returned to her seat and exhaled, "He's not interested in me. We're only friends."

Tara scoffed, "You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

At Emma's uncertain expression the Knockout threw up her hands, "The guy set up a romantic dinner for you. Complete with your favorite foods and music."

"He was only doing that to apologize." Emma countered.

"Oh, you have so much to learn." Tara shook her head sadly, "Sweetie, when a guy wants to apologize to a woman he gets her a card. _Maybe_ some flowers or candy. But that? That was the Stinger trying to impress the heck out you."

She bumped her arm and winked, "Trust me, I know men."

"I. . ." Emma still didn't look convinced, "I don't know. He's never even tried to make a move on me."

"That's because Sting's a gentleman." Tara told her, "And, to be fair, with the way you've been playing it maybe he thinks there's no reason to even try. Maybe he thinks you're only interested in him as a friend."

Emma pondered that while she and Tara watched the rest of the show.

It soon came time for the end of the night. Eric and Immortal were back in the ring, Eric going on and on about how Immortal couldn't be stopped. How he couldn't be stopped.

"Does he ever stop talking about himself?" Tara sighed.

"Nope." Emma replied, "It's just as bad when the cameras are off."

"Ugh, I don't know how you deal with it." Tara made a face and Emma silently agreed.

"Tonight is a night of celebration!" Eric was saying, a million dollar smile on his face, "Not only will Immortal's own Jeff Jarrett face Mr. Anderson at Hardcore Justice in a few weeks and win the Heavyweight Championship! But my lawyers have just told me that poor little Dixie Carter's request for an appeal has been denied."

The crowd began to 'boo' as Immortal applauded themselves, slapped high fives and even feinted tears.

Eric continued to grin as he went on, "That means that Impact is mine. Impact will stay mine. And there is nothing anybody can say or do to change that."

Suddenly 'Slay Me' filled the arena. As the crowd began to cheer Eric and the rest of Immortal grew irritated and even a little worried. They looked around, expecting something to happen at any moment.

Emma leaned forward in her seat as she anxiously awaited Sting's appearance.

The cheers grew as the Insane Icon stepped out onto the ramp. He was now decked out in his red suit.

Immortal yelled something up at him, but whatever they were saying was lost in the noise of the crowd. Sting looked over at them with mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"I am so happy you can be here tonight!" he told them, his tone amplified, "Because you were right, Eric. Tonight _is_ a special occasion!"

"What does he have up his sleeve?" Tara asked with a curious smile.

Emma shook her head, "I have no idea. But whatever it is, it can't be good."

"It can't be good for Immortal." Tara smirked.

Emma hoped she was right.

"You see, Eric, I've been meeting with the network." he paused, "You do remember the network, don't you, Eric?"

Eric's jaw tensed, but other than that he remained motionless.

"And you're right, it is a night of celebration." Sting went on, "Because after my meeting with them they decided to make me, the Stinger, their very own special liaison."

Eric's eyes closed and he looked up, shaking his head. It were as though he knew exactly where Sting was going with his announcement.

Sting was grinning like a madman, "That's right, Bischoff. No more pulling rank. No more cheap shots against the guys in the back. From now on, all of your devious little plans have to go through me."

Eric shook his head in disbelief. Immortal began to argue amongst themselves.

"Can he do that?" Bully Ray demanded to Bischoff, but the other man didn't seem to hear him.

He just continued to stare up at Sting, his eyes slowly beginning to constrict in anger.

Sting looked down at Immortal and laughed. His joyful expression was the last thing to be seen before the show ended.

Emma turned off the television, surprised by the outcome of the show.

"Yes!" Tara cheered as she looked up at the ceiling, "Thank you, God! Maybe now that little weasel won't be able to run ramshot over the roster anymore."

Emma slowly began to smile, the realization of what just happened finally kicking in.

"I hope this is just the beginning," she told the other woman, "I hope this is what it takes for finally get Eric out of power."

"Oh me, too." Tara sighed, "Because, to be honest, I don't know how much longer some of us are going to last."

"It's gotten really bad there, hasn't it?" Emma replied with sympathy.

"You have no idea." Tara began to frown, "It used to be that I couldn't wait to get to the Impact Zone. But now, after Eric weaseled his way into power. . ."

She glanced down at her lap for a moment before finally turning back to Emma and stating, "It's become a nightmare."

Emma reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder, "I'm really sorry. But if anyone can stop Eric, it's Steve."

"Yeah, I'm sure _Steve_ can." Tara teased and laughed.

Emma shook her head, her nose crinkling up at she began to smile.

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The two weeks flew by and soon she found herself back at the Impact Zone. As she cut the engine of her jeep and climbed out, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and looked up at the building.

It was funny, but she was actually felt happy to be back there. In a weird way, it was almost like she were home.

She shook her head and chuckled to herself, what a difference a little time can make.

She stepped into the building, nodding and greeting a few people who welcomed her back. She was halfway to Eric's office when Tori came running up, the young woman worried.

"Emma," she breathed as she approached, "You have to go to Catering right now. Mr. Bischoff is screaming for his coffee."

"Well," Emma sighed, "I _was_ feeling happy about being back."

She offered Tori a slight smile, "It didn't take him long, huh?"

Tori gave her a reassuring nod and led her towards Catering. As she rounded a corner and entered the room she was immediately greeted by Devon, AJ, James, Tara and Brooke. Also, she noticed, Abyss was standing a few feet away, watching her intently.

"Welcome back." they chorused, presenting her with a cupcake with a candle in it.

Emma felt a blush warm her cheek and she began to smile. She was so touched by their thoughtful gesture.

"Thank you, you guys." she told them, sincere, "I can't tell you what it means to me. I really appreciate it."

Beaming, she leaned over and blew out the candle. Tori, Tara and Brooke gave her hugs. James slipped an arm over her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Both AJ and Devon shook her hand, Devon presenting her with the cupcake.

They bid her goodbye and left, all but Tara having to prepare for their matches.

Abyss finally stepped forward, the giant staring at her from behind his mask.

"Hi, you." Emma greeted him warmly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her quietly.

"Better." she assured him, "My back is still a little bruised but at least it doesn't hurt."

"I'm glad." the wrestler nodded, sincere.

Emma wanted to talk to him some more but he ducked his head and headed off. She watched after him with a frown. She was confused. She didn't understand why he had left so soon. It was almost like he couldn't be around her.

She needed to find out what was going on with him.

Letting out a sigh she began to make her way through the halls. It wasn't long until she reached the door to Eric's office. Hand braced on it, she mentally prepared herself for whatever he was going to throw at her.

She opened the door and slipped inside, dropping her bag onto the nearby couch. She picked up her clipboard and began to look over it's contents.

"Emma." Eric called out to her.

At the sound of his voice Emma paused. His tone was different. Softer. Almost. . .kind. She had never heard that from him before. Not even when he had conned her at the beginning.

She looked up at him, completely surprised to see him looking at her with concern. That was definitely not what she was expecting.

"Yes?" she asked slowly, still leery despite his disquiet manner.

Eric rose from his chair and walked around his desk, coming to lean back against the front of it. He studied her for a few moments, as though he were trying to find just the right words.

"Yes?" Emma arched an eyebrow after a long span of silence.

"I. . ." Eric glanced down at his feet for a moment, a nervous smile coming to his lips, "This is hard for me to say."

Emma remained silent.

He turned back to her and replied with surprising sincerity, "I'm very sorry you were hurt."

Emma blinked, shocked to her very core. That was honestly the last thing she expected him to say. And she really wasn't sure how to respond to that. She didn't quite know what to say or even think on the matter.

"While I wish it hadn't happened," she expressed, just as honest, "I'm not sorry that I was able to stop Steve from being hurt further by you and the rest of Immortal."

Eric's eyes narrowed. It was clear that he hadn't expected a response like that. Emma had to wonder what he had expected. Did he expect her to tell him it was all right? That she was sorry, too? If he had then he was sorely mistaken. That just wasn't going to happen.

"Well," the Impact owner murmured, a bite creeping into his words as he rounded back to his desk chair and took a seat, "To make sure it doesn't happen again, you're banned from going to ringside unless _I _say so."

"Fine." Emma sighed, not putting up a fight on that front.

"Good." Eric bobbed his head, "Also, you're to stay away from Sting."

Emma felt her irritation rise, "No. I won't."

"Excuse me?" Eric repeated, "Did you just tell me 'no'?"

"I did." Emma objected, "Look, Eric, you can control my hours, my pay. Even what tasks I do here at Impact. But you can't control who I'm friends with. Last time I checked, that wasn't in my job description."

Eric's face began to turn an interesting shade of red. His lips were clasped tightly together as he tried in vein to keep whatever he wanted to say from erupting from him.

"Well you're right about one thing." he began to smirk, "I can control what you do here at the Impact Zone. And right now what you're going to do is go wash my car. And, Emma, I want to see my handsome face shining in it."

"Right away." Emma deadpanned.

She turned and started to walk out of the office. She had almost reached the door when it suddenly flung open, the young woman jumping back in surprise.

"Now is that any way to welcome this pretty young woman back?" Sting asked as he came sweeping into the room.

Following behind him were a camera crew, capturing all of the action.

Sting looked over at Emma and took her hand, planting a kiss on it. His lips lingered on her skin for a few moments before he rose and slowly released her hand.

"Welcome back, Pretty Eyes." he told her with a wink.

Emma bowed her head and blushed, a soft smile coming to her lips.

"Now that's how you welcome her back." Sting replied to the camera before turning back to Eric.

"Get out of my office! Now!" Eric bellowed.

"No, no, no, no, no." Sting shook his head, "I'm afraid not, Bischoff. You see, I'm here on network business."

Eric closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten.

"What?" he demanded as he finally opened them, "What could the network possibly want now?"

"Funny you should ask." Sting took a seat on Eric's desk and crossed his arms, feinting seriousness, "The network feels that Impact has fallen into a-well as they put it-a slump since it fell under new ownership."

He grinned as Eric's eyes constricted, "And as their liaison it's my job to inform you that starting immediately you're going to start rebuilding the X Division."

Eric growled under his breath. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.

"Is that all?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Oh don't you wish it was." Sting's grin deepened, boarding on maniacal, "Also, they feel that Immortal has been getting a little too much special treatment. So to make things a little more fair Jeff is going to have to defend his right to be number one contender. Tonight. Against Rob Van Dam. And Kurt Angle. And it's in a steel cage."

Eric surged to his feet, slamming his fists on the desk, "Like hell he will, you son of a bitch!"

"Oh!" Sting jumped up, "Eric, are you getting excited? Are you getting fired up? Cause I am! Woo! Yes!"

Emma looked back and forth between the two men, her eyes widening in surprise. She was starting to feel very nervous. She had no idea where this was going to go, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

"If you think you can come in here and throw your weight around," Eric snarled, "And mess up all of my plans for Immortal you have another thing coming."

Sting braced his hands on the desk and leaned across it until he and Eric were practically nose-to-nose. He regarded the Impact owner with a cocky grin, a devious glint in his brown eyes.

"What are you going to do about it, Bischoff?" he asked gleefully, "I've got the network behind me. You're not going to say no to the network. Not if you want Impact to stay on the air."

He leaned in even closer and they were nose-to-nose then, "And I'm just getting started, Eric. I'm going to keep coming at you and coming at you and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"You think so." Eric threatened, "You think I can't get rid of you one way or another?"

Emma's hand flew to her throat. Sting might not have been concerned about Eric's threat but she was. She knew that he would do whatever he could to get what he wanted. And if he wanted Sting gone, he'd make it happen.

"Try it." Sting smirked, "How about a match? One match. I lose, I'm gone. I win, Dixie gets the company back."

"Don't push me, Sting." Eric growled.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, Bischoff." Sting began to laugh coldly.

Eric drew back, the older man shaking in fury.

"You want a match-" he started to say, finger pointed at the Icon.

But his voice slowly trailed off and he lowered his finger. His eyes narrowed in thought, the wheels in his mind turning. A sinister smile began to form on his lips.

"That's fine." he stated, appearing unaffected by the announcement, "If that's what the network wants, then so be it. Who am I to try and stand in the way."

Sting gradually straightened, that his grin remaining in place.

"You see, _Stinger_," Eric's own grin grew, "I'm smarter than you. You think you have me backed into a corner and the truth is, I'm five moves ahead of you. So you keep playing your games with the network. Because I'm not going to fall for it."

To his credit Sting didn't seem deterred. In fact, he didn't seem bothered at all.

"Now get out of my office." Eric stated with a chuckle, "All of you."

The camera crew, Emma and Sting all exited the room. Seconds later the door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing throughout the hallway.

Emma turned and looked back at him, frowning, "Sorry. Nice try, though."

Sting gave her a wink, "Oh I'm not done yet."

"He meant it." Emma stated with worry, "He really will do whatever he can to get rid of you."

"You worried about me?" Sting grinned down at her.

"You know I am." Emma expressed, in no mood for his teasing.

Sting placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down, his face close to hers. Emma felt a little nervous about him being so close, but she remained where she was.

"I've got this, M&M." he assured her, winking, "Bischoff thinks he's won this round, but he hasn't. He did exactly what I thought he would do.

"In fact, had he agreed to the match right then and there I would have been surprised. So it's okay. Let him think he's won. Because I'm not done yet."

Emma smiled at that before sighing, "I better go see about washing Eric's car."

"Want me to give it a new paint job?" Sting asked, a mischievous light in his eyes.

"No." Emma stated adamantly, but smiled, "But I might take a rain check on that."

She turned and started to walk away when she felt him place his hand on her shoulder and keep her in place.

"Yeah?" she asked with a smile as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

Her smile slowly faded away, though, as she took in his narrowed gaze and lips turned down in a frown. His eyes were focused on her back and she knew instantly what he was looking at.

Her bruises were visible from where they emerged from her sleeveless blouse. Without a word he used gentle hands to ease the fabric to one side or the other, so that he could get a better view of them. Right then they were a slash of sickly yellow and brown against her creamy skin.

"Too bad you didn't see them a week ago." Emma tried to joke, even going so far as to offer a crooked grin, "They were much prettier when they were purple and blue."

His gaze slowly met hers and it was clear by his expression that he wasn't in a joking mood.

His thumb traced the skin around one of the bruises, careful not to touch the contusion itself. At the feel of his hand on her back Emma felt herself shiver. From nervousness or something more, she didn't know. And was really too scared to figure it out.

She was just starting to come to terms with her feeling for him. But she wasn't ready to dig deeper and analyze them further. Not yet.

Sting continued to stare down at her bruises, feeling equal parts rage for how they happened and concern for her well being.

He also felt an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her hurts away. But he knew that wasn't the time or place. And besides, he didn't quite know how she would take his overture.

"Steve?" at the sound of his name on her lips he reluctantly released her and turned to look into her eyes.

"I'm all right." she told him, smiling gently, "Really. It doesn't hurt."

"Yeah." he murmured and took a step back, his head bowed.

She could put on a brave face all she wanted. And maybe she was telling the truth and she really wasn't in any pain. But she had been. And he had seen it. It was something that would stick with him for a long time.

Emma turned to face him and reached up, placing her hand against his cheek. He gazed over at her, everything in him screaming for him to take hold of her hand and hold it there. He couldn't help it, it felt so good against his skin.

But he kept his hands rooted at his side, no matter how much it pained him to do so.

"I'll see you later." she replied softly before dropping her hand and turning to walk away.

He watched after her and inhaled. He would see her later. He'd make sure of that.

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As they parted company Eric sat at his desk, cell phone to his ear.

"That son of a bitch is getting to be a bigger problem than I thought." he snarled into the phone, "He needs to be stopped. And he needs to be stopped now!"

He listened for a few moments as the person on the other end began to speak.

"No, no." he said after awhile, "No, I want you to stay put. If I need you to come in I'll let you know. For now, you just stay on standby."

A slow, evil smile began to cross the Impact owner's face as he listened to the figure on the other end speak.


	11. Part Eleven: Weekend Warriors

When Saturday rolled around Emma found herself helping the crew get ready for a meet and greet with some of the Impact stars at a local block fair. The turn out was looking to be better than they had originally expected and everyone's hopes for a great day were high.

As she and Tori helped arrange the tables and chairs with the other crew the two women chatted.

"He actually wants me detail his car." Emma shook her head and sighed, "I'm half tempted to hide moldy cheese under the seats or put sugar in his gas tank."

"Careful." Tori laughed, "You're starting to sound like Sting."

Emma paused and slowly began to smile. She could think of worse things to be called.

They finished getting everything into place just as the talent began to enter the room. Emma watched as the Motor City Machine Guns quickly claimed a table near the back. While they did that Pope breezed into the room, looking around with an air of dissatisfaction.

"This place isn't good enough for the Pope." he sneered.

"Well you're free to leave." Tori told him with a smile, "But that means you'll miss the press when they come down here in an hour to interview you guys."

"The Pope will deal with it." the wrestler took a seat near one of the front tables.

"Thought so." Tori murmured to Emma, who snickered.

Tara, Brooke and AJ came walking in next. They looked around and smiled, seemingly happy with the accommodations.

The women took a seat at one table, AJ at the other adjacent to them. He turned and watched the TV monitors set up around the room. Each one showed both classic and recent matches from Impact.

James Storm came walking in, beer bottle in hand. Tori's eyes widened and even Emma frowned.

"At a carnival?" she asked softly.

James took in their expressions and turned the bottle upside down, revealing that it was empty.

"Just kiddin', girls." he lifted his shades and gave them a wink before sticking the beer bottle back into his bag.

Tori sighed with relief and Emma giggled.

Her giggles subsided though as Sting entered the room. She was kind of surprised to see him in regular street clothes and shades. She didn't know why, but she half expected to see the Insane Icon making an appearance today. Maybe it was because she was so used to seeing him dressed that way.

"Hi," she greeted him warmly as he approached.

"Hey." he smiled down at her.

He looked around and nodded, impressed, "The place looks great. You guys did a good job."

"Thanks." Emma motioned to the last table, "Go ahead and have a seat. The fans should be lining up in about ten minutes."

Sting sat down and Emma began to stack photos of himself in front of him.

"If you need anything," she stated, "Water or something to eat, just let me know."

Sting leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands clasped before him. He smirked at her from behind his sunglasses.

"So are you my own, personal assistant today?" he asked, eyebrows arched.

"Sorry," she giggled, "But you have to share me with everyone."

"Darn." Sting snapped his fingers and shook his head with feint sadness, "And here I thought I was special."

_You are_, Emma wanted to tell him but only offered him a warm smile in return.

Soon it was time for the fans to come in. Emma and Tori stood back and watched as they went to their chosen wrestler.

Emma noted that the majority seemed to flock to Sting. She found herself smiling as she watched him hold court like a pro. He was kind and personable with ever fan he encountered, listening to their stories with interest and sharing his own.

At one point he caught her eye and Emma instantly picked up a bottle of water and took it over to him. He gave her grateful smile and took a quick drink.

"You read my mind." he grinned at her.

"That's my job." Emma winked and moved out of the way so that the next fan could approach.

Sting looked after her a for a moment before giving the fan his full attention.

Emma walked over to Tori, who was smiling.

"This is going so well." the crew member replied enthusiastically, "We've had an amazing turnout today."

"That's great." Emma stated, joining in her excitement.

Tori began to frown as she looked at something over the shorter woman's shoulder.

"Ring rats, two o'clock." the blonde muttered.

Emma turned and followed her gaze, her nose crinkling up at the sight of the two women who had just entered the room.

The first was thin, but curvy. Her dark brown extensions were long, falling down her back. She could have been a pretty girl if it wasn't for the massive amount of eye makeup coating her eyes.

She wore a red halter top that showed off entirely too much cleavage and a short jean mini skirt.

Her friend was equally trashy. She was a little bigger with ash blonde hair and too much fake tan. She was dressed in a white tank top, equally as revealing as her friend, and black leather pants.

"And what street corner will you two be working tonight?" Emma couldn't help but quip.

Tori laughed so loudly that she had to quickly cover her mouth.

"You're so mean!" she gasped as she removed her hands, "I knew there was a reason why I liked you."

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing. She supposed she was being mean spirited and maybe even a little petty, but she couldn't help herself. Women like that always irritated her.

They watched as the pair sashayed over the AJ first. He looked at them with a smile frozen on his face.

"Hi, AJ." the brunette gave the wrestler a teasing smile.

"You're our favorite wrestler." the blonde added.

Though he tried to be kind, it was clear that he unimpressed with their obvious flirting.

Tara and Brooke spied them, whispering. Emma could just imagine what the Knockouts were saying.

The two fans bid AJ goodbye and went over to James next. He grinned at them from behind his shades and even flirted a bit. They seemed to take that as an invitation and moved in even closer. James remained friendly but didn't waste a moment of turning his attention to the next fan in line.

The women looked at him in surprise for a moment before turning. The brunette quickly bumped the blonde's arm, a feline smirk on her lips. Emma followed her gaze and frowned.

They were looking right at Sting.

The two women quickly jumped into line and awaited their turn. After about ten minutes they found themselves at the front of the line. The pair slinked up to Sting's table, each leaning against one side of it.

"Hi, Sting." the blonde cooed, "I'm Marla and this is Vanessa."

"Hiya." the brunette grinned.

"Hi." Sting offered them a friendly smile.

"You're our favorite wrestler." Vanessa told him.

Emma's eyes narrowed. Not only were they tacky but they were unoriginal to boot.

"Thanks." Sting nodded toward the autograph book the blonde held in her hand, "Would you like me to sign that?"

"Sure." beaming, Marla presented it to him.

He took it from her, flipped to a new page, and began to sign it. While he did that she leaned against him, her breasts brushing his bicep, as she pretended to be interested in what he was writing.

Sting stopped in mid signature and glanced up at her with arched eyebrows, "Friendly, aren't you?"

"You have no idea." Marla gave him a dazzling smile.

"Me, too." Vanessa quickly piped up, so not to be left out.

Sting glanced over at her and chuckled before going back to what he was writing. He soon finished it and handed it back to the blonde.

"Here you go." he nodded, "Thank you for coming out to see us today."

"I never miss a chance to see you, Sting." Vanessa told him, "You're so hot."

"Thanks." Sting grinned but felt a little embarrassed for them over their obnoxious behavior.

He turned to Vanessa and asked her if she had anything she wanted signed.

She licked her lips and slide the strap of her top to one side, "You can sign right here."

Sting just smirked and shook his head. If these ladies thought they had a shot they were sorely mistaken. He didn't mind if a girl took the lead from time to time, but not one who was out and out easy. And it was clear that these two fell into the second category.

He found himself looking sideways at Emma and his smile deepened. No, he preferred his women classy, spunky and with a hint of innocence.

Emma scoffed as she watched the two tramps' act. Tori patted her shoulder kindly.

"Get used to it." she told her, "There's always three or four at every event."

"Outstanding." Emma muttered in annoyance.

"Sorry." Sting replied to the brunette, "No can do. But if you like, I'll autograph a picture for you instead."

"Sure." Vanessa beamed.

He signed the photo and bid them goodbye. They reluctantly left his table and hurried over to Pope's.

As Emma made her way over to him she could hear Pope call out loudly, "Not even the Pope is that desperate."

Sting couldn't help but laugh and even Emma started to giggle.

"They were fun." the wrestler joked as she approached.

"Is that what you call it?" she asked with a snort.

"Do you have a better name?" Sting asked.

"I'd rather not say in front of children." Emma stated, earning another laugh from the Icon.

"Eh, they were all right." Sting glanced at her from over his shades, "Not my type, but they weren't too much trouble."

Emma was half tempted to ask him what, exactly, his type was but she didn't get the chance as a family stepped up to his table.

Sting looked down at the boy, possibly seven or eight. His face was painted up like the Insane Icon and he was wearing one of Sting's shirts.

"Now this is my kind of fan!" Sting yelled as he hopped off his chair and came around to kneel beside the boy, "Oww! How are you doing, buddy?"

He slapped the boy a high five, the child beaming.

"Fine." the boy answered, completely in awe.

"You're his favorite wrestler." his mother, also wearing a Sting t-shirt, confirmed.

"Thanks." Sting returned to his seat and grabbed his pen, "So what's your name, buddy?"

"Stevie." the kid answered.

Sting slapped his hands down on the table and howled, "No way! That's my favorite name!"

Emma stood back and watched the scene, charmed down to her toes. Sting and little Stevie continued to talk for awhile before Sting signed both his t-shirt and the toy championship belt he was carrying with him. He also posed for a picture with the whole family, both he and the child flexing for the camera.

Emma was all too happy to snap the photo, the grin never leaving her face. She returned the camera to the father, who thanked her.

Little Stevie looked at her with curiosity.

"Is she your girlfriend?" he asked the wrestler.

The parents laughed and Sting's grin grew as Emma felt her cheeks begin to warm.

The Icon once again knelt down by the child and nodded up at Emma, "She's pretty cute, huh?"

The boy nodded, "She's pretty."

"I agree." Sting murmured as he clapped the child on the back and took his seat again.

Emma ducked her head, embarrassed. She was sure he was only teasing. But still. . .

The family soon left, Sting waving goodbye to them. Emma walked over to his table and smiled.

"You just made that boy's year." she told him.

"He was a great kid." he lifted his shades and gave her a wink, "He sure liked you."

Emma stuck her tongue out at him but then giggled, "Looks like I have an admirer."

_Yeah and he's sitting right here, sweetheart_, Sting couldn't help but think.

Emma glanced over and rolled her eyes as she saw the two skanky fans leave the MCMG's table. Both Alex Shelley and Chris Sabin were looking at each other, eyes wide with disbelief.

As the pair exited the room they passed by Gunner, who entered. He was being flanked by an Impact camera crew.

"What's he doing here?" Emma murmured in confusion.

Sting followed her gaze and his joyful expression quickly disappeared. His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed behind his shades as he watched the cocky Immortal member strut into the room.

Gunner looked around and scoffed, unimpressed by what he found.

"You call this an event?" he asked loudly, garnering everyone's attention, "This looks like a Sunday social. If you wanted this place to be a hit, you should have gotten Immortal."

He began to laugh, "Of course, Immortal is too good for this rinky-dink joint."

"That didn't stop you from showing up, though, did it?" Alex called out.

Gunner looked over at him and simply laughed. He continued scanning the room until his eyes locked on Sting. Once he spotted him he began to make his way over to the Insane Icon.

Emma bit her lip, her stomach beginning to churn in nervousness. She glanced over to find that Sting had risen from his chair and come to stand in front of the table. Though he stood there motionless, she could see the muscles in his jaw ticking. His body, too, appeared tense.

She just hoped nothing happened there in front of the crowd. The last thing she wanted was to see some innocent bystanders get hurt.

"Gunner, I think you need to leave." Tori spoke up; she, too, worried about what was going to happen.

"I think you need to shut up." Gunner muttered, not taking his eyes off the other wrestler.

As he drew closer Sting began to grin. He couldn't help it. As threats went, Gunner was up there with moths. Maybe even a mouse. He had no problem kicking the crap out of him if he needed to.

Gunner got in the other man's face and snarled, "You're not gonna be smiling after I kick your sorry ass."

The smile faded away as Sting went nose-to-nose with him, "I'm right here, Gunner. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"You think so, old man?" Gunner laughed, "I guarantee you there'll being two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the ground."

"Did you just come up with that?" Sting asked him with a smirk, "You're such a clever guy, Gunner. Such a clever guy. Let me guess, you're really the brains of Immortal, aren't you?"

His smirk disappeared, the Icon suddenly very serious, "Like I said, I'm right here."

Emma looked back and forth between them, hand to her throat, frightened over what could happen.

"Oh, I wanna do it." Gunner told him, "This Thursday night at Impact. You and me."

"Fine with me." Sting responded, "Anything else or are we done here?"

"Why, Sting?" Gunner began to snicker, "You scared?"

Sting began to chuckle coldly. The man, and he used the term loosely, was a joke.

Gunner suddenly glanced sideways, his eyes narrowing as he noticed that James and AJ had fallen into step on either side of the Icon.

"Ya know, I ain't been in a fight in awhile." James muttered as he took off his shades and slipped them into the collar of his shirt, "And I'm just itchin' to get my hands dirty."

"Sounds good to me." AJ agreed.

Gunner looked from Storm to AJ to Sting. He began to sneer.

"You know what," he stated as he started to back away, "I want there to be a lot more people around when I kick your ass. I'll see you at Impact, _Icon_."

And with that he pushed his way passed the crowd and out of the room.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that nothing had happened.

James reached out and shook Sing's hand, "Not trying to step on your toes. We just wanted to end this quick and get that jackass out of here."

"I understand." Sting clapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks for the backup."

AJ patted his back and he and James returned to their seats.

"What can I say," Tori walked over to Emma and slipped an arm around her shoulders, "These fan events are always exciting."

Emma offered her a slight smile but she was still a little on edge over what had just occurred.

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The event wrapped up a couple of hours later. Thankfully it was without further incident.

As Emma and Tori and the rest of the crew began to dismantle the event the head of the carnival invited the wrestlers to stick around and enjoy the rides, on the house.

"Pope's not into this kiddie crap." Pope stated and promptly left.

"Come on," Chris nodded, "Let's go check this place out."

The talent, minus Sting, made their way towards the door. He hung back, though, making his way over to Emma. As she knelt down to fold up a table he joined her and folded up the other side.

She blinked, surprised that he was still around.

"You don't have to do that." she told him as they rose to their feet and set the table on it's side against the nearby wall.

Sting shrugged, "I don't mind."

"Hey," Brooke popped her head back in the doorway, "Are you coming with us, Sting?"

"You should go." Emma told him with a kind smile.

Before he could speak, though, Tara joined Brooke at the door. She whispered something in her ear and Brooke began to grin.

"Can Emma come out and play?" they chorused in a sing-song voice.

Emma shook her head and giggled. Sting laughed.

"Go on." Tori told her.

Emma shook her head, "I can't leave you guys here to take this down."

"Why?" Tori grinned, "It's only a few tables and chairs. And there's plenty of us to do it. So go on. Have fun."

"Are you sure?" Emma still didn't look convinced.

"Go on." Tori laughed.

"She's going." Sting said as he took her hand and led her out of the room.

"Thanks!" Emma called back to her.

They met up with the others and headed out to enjoy the carnival.

While the guys took to the bumper cars Tara and Brooke went to the nearby booths and shopped.

"So what do you feel like?" Sting smiled down at Emma.

Emma's eyes lit up as an idea came to her mind.

"This way!" she announced as she grabbed his hand and led him over to the concessions stand, "I want one of those huge, soft pretzels!"

Sting laughed and allowed her to pull him.

She ordered a pretzel and started to remove some money from her purse when the wrestler slipped his hand over hers and shook his head.

"It's on me." he told her, pulling out a couple of bills.

"I can't let you do that." Emma started to object, but Sting cut her off.

Lowering his sunglasses, he deadpanned, "Never try and argue with a wrestler, sweetheart. You'll never win."

Emma giggled and shook her head, relenting. Sting paid for the pretzel and handed it over to her. He had to laugh at the look of absolutely childlike joy that came to her face as she happily took it from him.

She ripped off a piece and popped it into her mouth, her eyes closing in bliss.

"Mmm." she murmured as she chewed.

After swallowing she handed it to him, stating, "Go ahead and have some. You did pay for it after all."

"Don't mind if I do." the Icon tore off a piece and took a bite.

"Not bad." he nodded, "But it needs mustard."

"I love mustard. I do." Emma told him, "Not not on my pretzel."

As her nose crinkled up Sting began to laugh, "Emma, you have so much to learn."

Once the pretzel was finished the pair continued on. They met up with Chris and Alex, who were getting off the Ali Baba.

"How was it, guys?" Sting asked.

"Awesome!" Chris cheered while Alex nodded, "Best damn ride in the whole place."

Chris turned to Emma and announced, "Emma, you've got to go on the Kamikaze with us."

Emma followed his gaze to a large ride where riders got into a long metal cage before being swung all the way around in a circle.

Doubt and uneasiness colored her features as she turned back to him, "Um, I think I'll pass, Chris. Maybe next time."

"All right, see you later." he stated before he and his tag team partner walked off.

Sting stepped up behind her and leaned down, his lips near her ear as he murmured, "Too much excitement for you?"

Emma jumped, surprised to find him so close. He started laughing as she turned around and playfully swatted at him.

"I just ate." she told him slowly as she tried to think up a reason, "I didn't want to. . . give. . .myself a cramp."

"Uh huh, sure." Sting smirked down at her.

"I didn't see you jumping to go." she chided him with a smile.

"I wasn't asked." he reminded her.

"Touché." Emma laughed and looked around.

She spotted a line of carnival games and she wandered over. Her eyes instantly locked onto a large stuffed panda sitting on a top shelf.

Sting fell into step beside her, he, too, looking up at the panda.

"You want that panda?" he asked with a grin.

Emma looked over at him and shook her head, "No, No, it's okay."

"No, no." he said as he pulled out some money and handed it to the vendor, "If you want that panda, I'm gonna get you that panda."

"Steve, really, you don't have to. . ." Emma's voice trailed off as he picked up the three darts and lined up his shot.

"Hit three balloons in a row and you win." the carnie told him.

"Piece of cake." he stated before letting the dart go.

It flew straight and true until it was almost at the balloon. Seconds before it hit it arched and fell just below it. Sting's eyes narrowed behind his shades. His mouth set in a determined line he tried again. This time the dart hit.

He gave Emma a triumphant smirk and went for his third shot. Unfortunately that one, too, hit just to the side of the balloon he was aiming at.

He stood there, glaring at the game. Without saying a word he reached into his wallet and gave the vendor another dollar.

The vendor grinned and handed him three more darts.

"Steve, you don't have to do this." Emma leaned up and whispered to him, "Come on, everyone knows these games are rigged."

He refused to give up, though. He launched the first dart and it hit the balloon. He quickly launched the second and it, too, hit.

He lifted the dart and lined up his shot. Resolved, he let that one fly.

And it just missed the balloon.

Lips pursed, he reached into his wallet and grabbed another bill, slapping it onto the counter.

Almost forty minutes and fifty dollars later he still hadn't hit three in a row.

Emma bit her lip as she watched him miss yet another balloon.

"Why don't we just go." she suggested lightly.

"No, I can do it." Sting told her as he reached into his wallet for another bill.

"Forget it." the carnie waved him off, handing the panda to Emma, "Go ahead and take it. I mean, you paid for it three times over.

"Besides," he added with a grin, "I used to be a little Stinger when I was a kid."

Sting looked over at the panda before murmuring dryly, "Thanks."

Emma found herself grinning as she thanked the carnie, took Sting's sleeve and led the wrestler away.

"I almost had it." the Icon muttered.

"Of course." Emma told him gently, "Any second you were gonna get it."

"Darn right." Sting mumbled.

They continued to walk until Sting spotted the Ferris wheel.

"Feel like going on a ride?" he asked.

Emma smiled and nodded, the pair walking over. After a few minutes in line they climbed on and awaited the wheel to start.

She turned to him and replied sincerely, "Thanks for inviting me along."

Sting grinned and bumped her arm, "Anytime."

The wheel started up and soon they were rising towards the clouds. Sting glanced over and found himself smiling as he watched Emma. Her eyes were closed, her chin titled upwards as she enjoyed the feel of the air on her face.

Just looking at her sitting there all he wanted to do was kiss her. The need was so strong that he actually found himself leaning towards her.

He stopped himself, though, turning back to stare out over the carnival. While he wanted to do so, he didn't know how she'd react. He'd like to think that she would return the kiss. But because it was Emma, who was so shy and reserved, that caused him to hold off.

Besides, when he finally kissed her he wanted her to see it coming.

She eventually opened her eyes as they reached the top and stopped. Bracing her hands on the railing, she looked out over the carnival, taking in the sights and sounds. It had begun to grow dark, the sky awash in the colors of auburn, gold, violet and navy. That, coupled with the twinkling lights of the rides and games, gave the entire area an almost magical feeling.

"It's so peaceful up here." she sighed.

Sting nodded in agreement.

The pair leaned back in their seat and silently looked out over the carnival. It was nice, just being there alone together. On the top of the world, no less. Emma bowed her head for a moment as she fought to keep a smile from coming over her. She never would have imagined a few months ago that she would be there with _Steve_ of all people. It was surreal.

"So the meet and greet turned out well." she stated after a few moments.

"Yeah, it wasn't too bad." he glanced sideways at her and smirked, "Kinda dull, though."

She turned to him and arched an eyebrow, "Yeah, I suppose you're used to guys coming in, threatening you and challenging you to matches."

Sting leaned in close, looking at her from over his shades, "You'd be surprised how often it happens."

Instead of smiling, though, Emma regarded him with a frown. Seeing the expression on her pretty face caused his own grin to vanish.

"Emma, come on." he tried to get her to lighten up, "This is _Gunner_ we're talking about. He's not much of a threat."

"No, but the rest of Immortal are." she argued, "And the fact that you're not taking this seriously. . ."

She turned away, finishing quietly, "Well, it scares me."

"Who said I'm not taking this seriously, Emma?"

At the resolved undertone of his voice Emma found herself turning back to look up at him. He had removed his shades, staring deeply into her eyes. By his expression it was clear that he was very, very serious.

"Because I crack a few jokes, play a few pranks you think I'm not serious?" he questioned her, his voice low, "You think this is all fun and games for me?"

"Isn't it?" she couldn't help but ask.

He gave her a smile then. Small, but still there.

"When we first met, what did you think of me?" he asked her.

Emma blinked, confused by the question. She bit her lip, trying to think of something diplomatic.

"Be honest." he smirked when it took her a while to speak.

She shrugged, glancing out over the carnival, "Honestly, I didn't know what to think. You made me feel. . . a little nervous."

Emma turned back to him and added dryly, "To put it mildly."

Sting grinned at that, "And that was before I even went after you."

He grew serious as he continued, "Imagine how Immortal feels, Emma. Think their nervous? Worried? Maybe even a little afraid?"

"Yeah." Emma nodded, "I'm sure they are."

"Good." Sting replied, "That's exactly how I want them to be. When you get scared it puts you off kilter. You don't think as clearly. You get sloppy.

"It's all about mind games, Emma." he told her, tapping his finger to his temple, "Getting inside their head and staying there. I want them to be thinking every second, 'Is Sting lurking around? Is he coming after us tonight?'

"So I'm going to keep playing my games and keep them guessing." he stated evenly, "Until they slip up. And when they do that's when I'll strike; get Impact away from Bischoff and back into the rightful hands of Dixie."

They stared at one another for a few long moments, neither one speaking.

"I can see you're very passionate about it." she murmured to him after awhile.

She cast her eyes to the carnival and sighed, admitting, "I wish I had that kind of passion."

Sting looked at her, "You do."

"I do?" Emma repeated, not convinced.

"About your writing." he grinned, "You wouldn't be here, sticking it out, if you weren't passionate about your writing."

Emma bit her lip, thoughtful. Well he did have a point. Her writing was everything to her. She put her heart, soul, emotions, everything, into it. She would do whatever she could to hang onto it. Even work the for devil, himself.

She slowly began to smile. He was right. She was passionate about it.

But just as quickly her smile turned into a frown. She _had_ been passionate about it.

Sting noticed her look and gently placed his hand on her arm, "Hey? What's wrong?"

Emma regarded him sadly, "The truth is, since this whole mess with Eric started I haven't been able to write a word.

"Day after day I've sat in front of my computer screen and just stared at it." she shook her head, "The words just won't come. I try and I just freeze up. It's. . .it's like I'm afraid to write.

"When I write it's like I see a movie in my head." Emma explained, "I watch what my characters are doing, listen to what they're saying, and I copy it down."

She began to smile sardonically, "Except right now all I see is snow."

Sting studied her, anger beginning to bubble just below the surface. It was just another thing he blamed Bischoff for. Another reason to make him pay.

"The words will come, Emma." he tried to reassure her.

Emma shrugged, "Maybe."

She hugged her stuffed panda to her chest and smiled faintly, "Who knows? Maybe I've found my muse now."

Sting began to grin over that.

The wheel started up again and did a few more spins before it came to a stop. As they climbed off and began to make their way back they ran into the others.

"I think we're done here." AJ told the returning pair, "We're gonna hit Chester's. Wanna come?"

"Sounds good." Sting nodded.

"What's Chester's?" Emma asked.

"A great little bar on the outskirts of the city." Tara told her, "Trust me, you'll love it."

Emma was hesitant though. Being straight edge all of her life she had never had an interest in bars.

Sting noticed her uncertainty and leaned in close, "You don't have to drink if you don't want to. I'm going and I don't drink. Besides, it's got great music and the best pool tables this side of the Atlantic."

Emma looked up at him and found herself smiling. His words made her feel a little better.

"All right." she nodded, beaming, "I'm in."

Sting grinned down at her and the pair followed the others into the parking lot.

"Em, are you coming with us?" Tara asked as she and Brooke walked over to Brooke's car.

"I'll take you." Sting offered.

Tara and Brooke looked at one another and smiled, the pair walking off without Emma even giving them her answer.

Emma shrugged, "Sure. Okay. Thanks."

They continued on, making their way towards the end of the lot. As they drew closer Emma slowed her pace, the young woman looking ahead with wide eyes.

Sting glanced over his shoulder at her and had to keep from chuckling. She looked equal parts fearful and intrigued.

He followed her gaze, his grin growing. Seated a few feet away, all by it's lonesome, was his black and silver Harley.

He didn't normally drive his Harley, usually opting for his SUV. But it had been such a nice day, coupled with the fact that he hadn't taking the bike out in awhile, that had prodded him to do it.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked as they approached.

Emma continued to stare at the bike, transfixed. She had never been on a motorcycle before. She had always wanted to try it, but the opportunity had never arisen.

Of course, standing there now before one, she could feel her nerves begin to take over.

_So what's it gonna be, Em,_ she thought to herself, _Are you going to pass up this amazing opportunity to ride on a motorcycle with _Steve_ or are you going to take a chance._

"I'm fine." she lied, offering him what she hoped was an easy smile, "Let's go."

"Okay." Sting murmured as he climbed onto the bike.

He turned and held out his hand to her. Emma took it and carefully climbed on behind him. She got settled, sitting as close to him as she could without really touching him. The truth was, she was nervous enough being on the back of the bike. But being that close to him as well, her nerves grew tenfold.

"The first thing you want to do-" he started to say.

"Oh, I know." Emma cut him off, "Sit close, hold tight but not too tight, lean when you lean and keep my eyes open. And, yes, this is the first time I've ever been on a motorcycle."

Sting blinked from behind his shades. He found himself grinning as he started the engine. The woman was full of surprises.

As the bike roared to life beneath her, Emma practically molded herself against his back, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

At the feel of her pressed against him, Sting felt his grin grow. He should have taken her out on his Harley months ago.

He gunned the engine a few more times and suddenly went roaring out of the parking lot.


	12. Part Twelve: I Love You

So yeah, more character-driven stuff in this part. But don't worry, action will be coming in the next part. I promise!

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Emma couldn't believe this was happening! Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever imagined flying across the night with Steve on the back of a motorcycle.

Her senses were on overload, overwhelmed with all that was around her. She could feel the wind whipping across her face. It caused her to duck her head, pressing her cheek to his back for a moment.

She could feel her body shaking, partly from the vibrations of the motorcycle.

Partly from the man sitting in front of her. Pressed against his back as she was, she touched hard muscle everywhere she came into contact with him. She could feel the power and strength of his back and she reveled in it.

The truth was, she had always been a sucker for physically powerful men. She likened it back to something primal deep within her.

She felt hard muscles where her hands were pressed against his abdomen. Because of the tights he wore, she couldn't remember seeing what his abs were like. But at that moment, she wanted more than anything to have just one peek.

She dared to lift her head, watching as the road, the buildings, the lights, other vehicles, all of it went whizzing past her. She couldn't remember feeling so free, so alive, before. It was amazing. The rush. The sensations of flying.

There was still a twinge of fear bubbling just below the surface. That small, nagging voice that told her that any moment something could go wrong and they could crash. But she forced it down, fierce in her trust in Steve. She knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

They pulled up to the bar a short time later. As they cruised into the parking lot, Sting pulled into a nearby parking spot.

He cut the engine but didn't climb off right away. The truth was, he enjoyed the feeling of her pressed against him too much to end it just yet. Despite their differences in height, she fit perfectly against him. Too perfectly. It made him want to haul her around to have her sit astride his lap. The image it brought to mind caused him to swallow hard.

It conjured up other images, too. Other ideas. He couldn't help but wonder if she would fit that perfectly against him in his bed.

Sting closed his eyes and willed himself to stop thinking such thoughts. That path was dangerous and could only lead to trouble. At least right now.

He reached down and took hold of her wrists, reluctantly releasing her hold from around his waist. He felt her pull away and he used that opportunity to climb off the bike.

He raked his hands through his hair, collecting himself.

_Pull yourself together, Stinger_, he chastised himself, _This isn't the first time you had a woman on the back of your bike._

But he knew, deep inside, that it would be the last. He wanted it to be just her from now on. That much he was sure of.

Sting turned to face her, helping her off the bike. He couldn't help but grin at her expression. He had never seen anyone look so excited and yet so scared at the same time. He had to suppress a laugh as, as soon as her feet touched the ground, Emma began to sway a bit. He took hold of her elbows and helped to steady her.

After a few seconds she got her bearings and took a step back, wonder filling her eyes.

"Oh my gosh!" she breathed, a huge smile on her face.

"So what did you think?" Sting asked her, a hint of a grin dancing on his lips.

"That was so much fun!" she gripped his sleeve in excitement.

"Yeah?" Sting did grin at her then.

"Yeah!"

"Then why are you shaking?" he questioned with a chuckle.

"Cause I'm still just a little bit scared." Emma admitted unabashedly, still keyed up over the bike ride.

Sting threw back his head and laughed at her enthusiasm. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he led her into Chester's.

"So if you've never been on a bike before," he asked her, "How did you know what to do?"

Emma ducked her head and admitted with a weak laugh, "I read about it once in a romance novel."

Sting's grin grew.

As soon as they entered the bar Emma's eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. It wasn't long until she was able to make out the place.

It was nice. There was a small room adjacent to the bar, set up with three pool tables. Across from the bar was a set of tables and chairs. And in the middle of the room was a small dance floor, complete with jukebox.

They spotted the group already taking up residence at one of the pool tables and quickly went over and joined them.

"So what's everyone drinking?" AJ asked.

"Beer!" James announced as he grabbed a pool cue and began to chalk it up.

"Same." Alex and Chris chorused.

"Me, too." Tara told him.

"I don't know." Brooke shrugged, "I'll go with you and see what they got."

"Ginger Ale if they have it, please." Emma told him, "Water if they don't."

"I'll take a Coke." Sting offered, "Want me to help you with those?"

"We got this." Brooke assured him with a wink as she and AJ headed off.

"Rack 'em up." James nodded to the MCMGs.

They began putting the balls on the table and setting them up in the triangle. Soon it was all ready to go, Alex and Chris grabbed pool cues.

"Come on, Stinger." James pointed his cue towards a set of them on the wall, "Help me show these boys what playing pool is all about."

Sting grabbed a cue and chalked it up.

"Who breaks?" James wanted to know.

"Coin toss?" Alex suggested as Chris spoke up, "Rock/Paper/Scissors?"

While the guys figured it out Emma and Tara took a seat at a nearby table and watched them.

"So today was fun." Tara spoke up.

"Yeah, it was." Emma nodded, "Except for when Gunner decided to crash the party."

"What in the world was he thinking?" Tara scoffed.

"He wasn't." Emma joked before adding seriously, "This is one of Eric's little plans, I'm sure. That or Gunner is feeling suicidal. One of the two."

Her eyes traveled over to Sting, watching as he lined up his shot. He hit the cue, sending it into the #3 ball. It went straight and true into the corner pocket. The wrestler straightened and grinned, pushing his shades up his nose.

He walked around to another side of the table and looked for another clear shot. He seemed to find it and leaned down, lining it up. He was about to hit the ball when he looked up and slowly began to grin.

Right at Emma.

She found herself returning the expression. Shyness overtook her, though, and she had to bow her head.

Sting straightened and rounded the table, coming to stand before her. Emma looked up at his questioningly.

"Come on," he told her, extending his hand, "I need my tag team partner."

Emma began to grin and shook her head, "Yeah, right."

"Yeah. Right." he said, taking her hand in his, "Come on."

She glanced over at Tara, who was grinning and nodding her head encouragingly. She looked back to Sting, looking up at him with uncertainty. He continued to grin down at her. Emma sighed at last and allowed him to pull her up.

Still holding on to her, he led her back around the table and came to stand behind her. Emma bit her lip, instantly feeling nervous at having him so close. She could feel his warmth at her back and she fought to keep from shivering.

Sting reached around her, placing the pool cue in her hands.

"I don't think I should. . ." Emma glanced at him sideways.

"Hey, no fair bringin' in a ringer." Storm spoke up, taking a pull off of his beer.

"Oh, I'm not." Emma assured him.

Sting looked over her head, to Storm. He slipped his shades down his nose and gave the other man a look. Stormer quickly caught on and began to smirk.

"Never mind, Shorty." he told Emma, "You go right ahead."

Sting pushed his shades back up his nose and grinned.

"Come on," he said as he stepped closer to her, "I'll help you."

Emma turned around and faced the front. She swallowed, visibly anxious, as he placed his hands over hers on the cue. He leaned over and she was forced to do the same.

Sting leaned over her, his chest against her back, as he arranged their hands on the cue. His cheek came to rest beside hers and he couldn't help but turn his head slightly, breathing in her scent. Lavender and vanilla. And something else. Something fresh and clean. Sweet. Something wholly Emma. It was now his favorite smell.

He drew her hand back on the cue, lining up the shot. Emma again glanced sideways at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. She cleared her throat nervously and turned her attention back to the tip of the pool cue.

"Relax." he murmured in her ear, "Just breathe."

Emma did as he instructed, breathing in and out. But there was no way she could relax. Not with him so close to her.

"Ready?" he asked her softly and Emma nodded.

Together they sent the tip of the cue into the cue ball. It hit against it, causing the cue ball to slam into the #5 with a 'crack', the billiard ball sliding into the top right corner pocket.

"Yeah!" Sting cheered as they straightened.

Emma giggled and turned around, jumping up to give him a high five.

"Thanks, tag team partner." Sting grinned down at her.

"Anytime." Emma beamed.

They played for a little while longer until Christian Kane's _The House Rules_ came playing out over the bar. Tara and Brooke grabbed a hold of Emma's hands and the trio went out onto the dance floor.

Sting finished up the game and passed the cue over to AJ. He walked over to the doorway that cut the pool room off to the rest of the bar and leaned against it, watching as Emma danced.

He felt a smile deepen his features as he watched the young woman laugh and dance. His eyes slowly slide down to her hips, watching as they moved in perfect time to the music. His smile began to fade away, then, being replaced with something deep and poignant.

"So why aren't you dancing with her?" James asked as he approached the Icon.

Sting continued to stare at Emma as he shrugged, "I don't dance. Two left feet."

"That wouldn't keep me from going out there." Storm clapped him on the back before turning and walking back to the table.

Sting's lips pursed as he pondered that. The man had a point. But still, he didn't dance. He tripped and crashed. Not exactly the stuff to impress a woman.

He wandered over to a nearby table and took a seat, drinking his Coke. It wasn't long until the song was over. He watched as Emma started to follow the Knockouts off the floor when she turned, catching sight of him. Her smile grew as she said something to the two female wrestlers and walked over to join him.

Sting looked up at her, grinning, "Having fun?"

"A blast." Emma told him as she sat down, "You?"

"Yeah." Sting nodded, "Yeah, I'm having fun."

"So what do you write?" he suddenly inquired.

Emma blinked, surprised by the question. She felt herself smiling, more than a little touched that he was so interested.

"Everything." she told him with a smile, "Mystery, Horror."

She ducked her head and blushed, adding, "Romance. Um, poetry, plays. You name it."

"So you're a big poetry fan?" Sting asked her.

Emma nodded, "I love it."

"Okay." Sting grinned, "Recite your favorite poem."

Emma looked at him with a surprised smile, "Right here? Now?"

"Right here. Right now." Sting confirmed, waving her on, "Lay it on me."

Emma began to giggle at his teasing nature. She couldn't believe he wanted her to tell him her favorite poem right there in the middle of the bar.

"Okay." she cleared her throat, preparing to recite it.

But she grew nervous and once more began to giggle. Sting laughed, bumping her arm with his hand.

"Come on," he prodded her with a grin, "Let's go. Favorite poem. Lay it on me."

"I. . ." Emma bowed her head, a blush coming to her cheeks, "It's called _I Love You_ by Ella Wheeler Wilcox."

She looked up at him, thoughtful and sincere, as she began:

_ "I love your lips when they're wet with wine _

_ And red with a wild desire; _

_ I love your eyes when the lovelight lies _

_ Lit with a passionate fire. _

_ I love your arms when the warm white flesh _

_ Touches mine in a fond embrace; _

_ I love your hair when the strands enmesh _

_ Your kisses against my face. _

_ "Not for me the cold calm kiss _

_ Of a virgin's bloodless love; _

_ Not for me the saint's white bliss, _

_ Nor the heart of a spotless dove. _

_ But give me the love that so freely gives _

_ And laughs at the whole world's blame, _

_ With your body so young and warm in my arms, _

_ It sets my poor heart aflame. _

_ "So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth, _

_ Still fragrant with ruby wine, _

_ And say with a fervor born of the South _

_ That your body and soul are mine. _

_ Clasp me close in your warm young arms, _

_ While the pale stars shine above, _

_ And we'll live our whole young lives away _

_ In the joys of a living love."_

Sting leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. Wow. He had a new found respect for poetry.

Emma shrugged and joked with a slight laugh, "Of course it would be about love. Hopeless romantic for the win."

"Nothing wrong with that." Sting told her softly.

Emma dared a look at him, offering an embarrassed smile before once more ducking her head.

"I want to hear one of yours." he told her as he watched her thoughtfully.

"One of mine?" Emma repeated as she went over some of her own poems in her head.

Her eyes lit up and she nodded, "All right. This is one of mine. It's called _Darkness_.

_ "Throughout the darkness,_

_ I am walking,_

_ Underneath the cloak of night._

_ "Inside me,_

_ My stomach's churning,_

_ Around and around in fear so great._

_ Towards the light,_

_ I am walking,_

_ Without hesitation my feet do step._

_ Until I reach dawn,_

_ And safety surely,_

_ Beyond me now my forever night."_

Sting blinked, her words hitting him square in the gut. He bowed his head and nodded, moved by her words.

"Wow." he murmured as he looked back up at her.

Emma thought for sure that he was just being kind but then she looked into his eyes and saw he was actually impressed. It made her bow her head in self-consciousness.

He reached out and touched her hand, causing her to look back up at him in surprise. He regarded her evenly, reflective.

"You're very talented, Emma." he told her quietly, "You have a gift. And you can't let Bischoff take that away from you."

Emma felt tears come to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away and offered him a small smile, "Sometimes it's easier said than done."

She looked out over the bar and sighed, shaking her head, "Back in seventh grade the teacher wanted us to write a story. And then we had to read them in front of the entire class."

She glanced over at him and shivered, "Public speaking is one of my greatest fears. Coupled with the fact that I had to do it in front of a room full of immature classmates. I was so afraid they were going to laugh. So afraid."

She held up her hands, as if she were holding an invisible piece of paper, and she began to shake them, "This was me the entire time I was reading it."

Sting smiled good-naturedly at her.

"So I read my story, nose buried in the paper and then, thankfully, I was finally done." Emma's smile grew, "And for a second there was nothing but silence."

"So what happened?" Sting inquired.

"They started to applaud." Emma murmured, wonder on both her face and in her voice as she remembered back, "I couldn't believe it. I stood there, stunned."

She began to giggle, "I think my mouth was even hanging open."

Steve laughed at that.

Emma's giggles subsided as she leaned back against her seat and sighed with contentment, "It was such a rush, knowing that something I had written had gotten that kind of reaction. Out of cynically seventh graders, no less. I've never forgotten that moment."

She shrugged, adding, "That was when I just knew I had to do it. I _had_ to be a writer."

"Nothing is like that rush you get when you feel like everyone's behind you." Sting replied, understanding what she had felt in that moment, "Knowing that they backed you all the way. It's like when I faced Flair back in 1990 for the Heavyweight Championship.

"Man, I could hear the crowd. Feel their energy." he shook his head, eyes cloudy as he remembered, "I fed off of it like it was a drug. I'm telling you, there was nothing like it."

"It was an amazing match." Emma agreed.

Sting laughed at her, "How would you know? You probably weren't even born yet."

Emma blinked and began to smile, "How old do you think I am, Steve?"

"Oh, no." Sting leaned back in his chair and raised his hands in mock surrender, "If there's one thing my mother taught me, it's never try and guess a woman's age."

"Come on, guess." Emma grinned, "Really, it's okay."

"Un uh." Sting shook his head, "Nothing doing, Em."

"Oh come on." Emma promised him, "I won't get mad."

Sting threw up his hands and blurted out, "Twenty-five."

Emma began to grin and pointed upwards.

"Twenty-seven."

Again she pointed upwards.

Sting's eyes began to narrow suspiciously, "Twenty-nine?"

Again her finger went up.

"Yeah right." Sting chuckled, before trying again, "Thirty?"

Again the finger went up.

He looked at her in disbelief. She had to be pulling his leg. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties if that. There was no way she was older than that.

"Thirty-one?"

Finger went up.

"Thirty-two?"

Again the finger went up coupled with her smile growing.

"Thirty-three?"

Emma put her finger to the tip of her nose and gave him a wink.

Sting blinked in surprised. He never would have guessed.

"Wow." he murmured in surprise.

Knowing her age actually made him feel a little better. Now he didn't feel like such a dirty old man for having feelings for her. But still, a twenty year age difference. . .

The night soon came to a close and the group began to make their way out of the bar.

"Feel like a ride home?" Sting asked Emma and grinned at the excitement that he saw flare up in her eyes.

"Definitely!" the young woman beamed up at him.

They bid the others goodnight and walked over to the bike. Emma waited until Sting was settled before climbing on behind him. She scooted as close to him as she could, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Ready?" he asked as he started the bike and gunned the engine.

"Yes!" Emma practically cheered.

Sting faced forward and grinned, patting her hands. He revved the bike and soon they were taking off out of the parking lot and into the night.

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They pulled up to Emma's apartment building some time later. Sting cut the engine of the bike and helped Emma climb off. He soon joined her and the pair began to make their way across the dark courtyard and towards her front door.

Once they reached it she turned and looked up at him. She didn't know what to say. There were a myriad of emotions running through her. It was hard to pinpoint just one and fixate on it.

Without thinking, she suddenly reached up and hugged him. Sting looked down at the top of her head, surprised and touched by the unexpected gesture. His arms slowly came around her shoulders, the wrestler pulling her closer.

Emma opened her eyes, realizing what she was doing. Face red, she slowly pulled away and cast her eyes to the ground.

" I just wanted to say thank you for today." she looked up at him and smiled shyly, "And that. . .well. . .I'm just really glad we're friends."

Though Sting smiled, the expression was a little forced. Inside he felt annoyance rise up in him. _Friend_. Truth was, he was tired of just being her friend. He wanted more. A lot more.

But what did she want? That was the question. There were times when he thought she felt something for him. Times when he was sure of it. And then there were times when he wasn't sure of anything.

She was so shy; playing everything close to the vest. It was hard for him to see where she stood.

He glanced down at his feet, hands on his hips as he milled over his thoughts.

Eventually he looked over at her and offered a kind smile, replying softly, "I'm glad you had a good time, Emma. I did, too. I'll see you Thursday."

"All right." Emma nodded as she watched him turn and walk back to his bike.

She slowly turned around and unlocked her door, slipping inside. As she closed it she leaned back against it, hand to her chest. She could feel herself begin to shake as she realized that she was in love with Steve Borden.

And that frightened her more than anything.


	13. 13: It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing

So FanFic cut the title again. Grrrrr. Oh well, it's my own fault for making my titles so long.

The official full title is:

Part Thirteen: It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing

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Thursday rolled around and another Impact show was almost set to start.

Emma hurried through the corridors of the hall, ever present clipboard tightly clutched in her arms. Eric had a million and one tasks for her to do with little to no time to do them before the show started.

She ran into Tori, the other woman laughing as she took hold of Emma's shoulders to keep her in place.

"Slow down before you fall down!" Tori told her good-naturedly.

"Can't." Emma sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, "Eric wants me to get everything ready for his stupid little celebration tonight."

Tori's eyes lit up as realization hit her, "Oh. That. Ugh."

"Exactly." Emma nodded.

"Well Eric will just have to wait." Tori stated, "Slow down and take a breather. You won't be able to do anything if you pass out from exhaustion."

"I will, I promise." Emma pulled away and continued on, adding over her shoulder, "When everything is set up and ready to go."

She rounded the corner, passing by a few of the crew members. She stopped them, handing them Eric's notes for the show that night.

One of the crew members scoffed, crumbling the piece of paper up in his hand, "Is he for real? He seriously wants us to set up for an Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night?"

"I'm afraid so." Emma exhaled, "And he wants it ready to go in twenty minutes."

"He's out of his damned mind!" another crew member griped, "There's no way we can get all of this set up in twenty minutes. Two hours, maybe. But _twenty minutes_? No way."

"Oh, but you better." called a voice.

Emma and the crew members turned to see Eric approaching. He was being flanked by Bully Ray, Jeff Jarrett and Scott Steiner.

"Because if you don't," Eric went on, bright grin on his face, "Then you're out of a job."

His eyes landed on Emma as he added, "All of you."

Emma's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue.

"Now you better hurry up." Eric turned his attention back to the crew, "Because I want everything ready to go by the time the show starts."

And with that he and his crones stalked off down the hall.

Emma stared after him angrily before turning back to the crew and sighing, "Okay, guys, you heard him. Better get started."

Grumbling, the crew hurried off to get to work. Emma watched after them with a frown. Head bowed, she started to walk away.

"Why so glum, sugarplum?"

She stopped and spun around, a smile coming to light. It grew as she watched Sting emerge from the shadows and walk over to her. He was ready for action, dressed in his ring attire and face paint.

"It's nothing." she tried to assure him, "Just Eric being Eric."

Sting's joyful expression disappeared, only to be replaced with a look of concern, "What's Bischoff done now?"

"Nothing." Emma smiled up at him and placed a hand on his arm, "Really. It's nothing. He's just throwing his weight around, trying to make everything perfect for his ridiculous Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night tonight."

Sting's eyes widened, a slow smirk coming to his lips, "Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night, you say?"

Emma arched an eyebrow and nodded, "Yeah. What do you have in mind?"

"Sorry, M&M." Sting reached out and took her hand, planting a kiss on it before giving her a wink, "But that's for me to know and you to find out."

"Steve. . ." her voice trailed off; it didn't matter what she said because he was going to do whatever he had cooking in that sly mind of his anyway.

He released her hand and walked off, whistling.

Emma watched after him with a frown. She just hoped that whatever it was, it didn't get him hurt.

Sting made his way towards ringside. He had almost reached the backstage curtain when he spotted the crew Emma had been talking to.

"Hey, guys." he motioned for them to come over.

They looked at him with uncertainty before looking at one another. Sting didn't blame them for being leery, given his, shall he say, new attitude of late.

They shrugged and walked over to him, one of the nodding, "Hey, Stinger. What's going on?"

"So about tonight's Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night. . ." he began with a devilish smile.

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Emma stood backstage, watching the show. It had been going amazingly well, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. Especially considering Sting's cryptic message before disappearing.

"Sting's up next." Tori stated as she stepped up to her.

Emma looked up at her friend with worried eyes. And there was still his match with Gunner. She just knew Eric had something up his sleeve for that, as well. If only she knew what, maybe she could warn Sting.

Suddenly Gunner's music hit the arena. Some fans began to cheer, but the majority booed the arrogant young wrestler. He walked down to the ring, yelling at the people in the crowd.

He climbed into the ring and warmed up, that conceited grin never leaving his lips. He was so sure he had the match in the bag.

It wasn't long before the sounds of 'Slay Me' filled the arena. As the song played the crowds' cheering grew.

A few seconds later their cheers intensified as the Insane Icon came through the curtain. He pointed to the crowd and waved them on as he made his way down to the ring.

Backstage the wrestlers also cheered for him. Emma watched him on the monitor, her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't help but be worried. Not that she thought he would lose. She didn't. But Gunner was with Immortal and they would do anything to win. Especially against Sting.

Sting climbed into the ring and up to the top rope, taking in the cheers of the crowd. He made sure to keep a watchful eye on Gunner, knowing that the younger man would get in a cheap shot if he could.

Suddenly Eric emerged on the ramp, mic in hand. On his face was a devious grin.

Sting's eyes narrowed slightly as he prepared himself for whatever the Impact owner had up his sleeve.

"Like I said at the start of the show," Eric practically purred, "Tonight is a very special night. Tonight is Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night."

That was met with boos from the crowd.

"And since it's Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night," Bischoff went on loudly, "And since I know you all came out to show your appreciation for me, I thought I would be kind in return. Give the fans something exciting."

Sting's eyes narrowed, a suspicious smirk appearing on his lips. What did the snake have in mind?

Bischoff went on, stating with malicious joy, "This match is a No Disqualification match. Falls count anywhere and anything goes."

Gunner turned back to Sting and began to grin evilly. Sting regarded him silently, his face revealing nothing. But inside his mind was turning.

Emma watched the monitor with wide eyes, her hand to her throat. She didn't know if she could watch this.

"He'll be okay." Tori whispered in her ear.

Emma briefly glanced up at her, afraid.

"Don't you worry about ole Sting." James Storm spoke up, "He's been in plenty of these matches. He knows how to take care of himself."

Emma regarded him with uncertainty before turning back to the screen.

Sting looked across the ring at Gunner, taking note the absolute triumph written across the other man's face. It only seemed to fuel his own fire.

Brain Hebner called for the bell and soon the match was underway.

Icon and challenger slowly began to circle one another. Suddenly they came together, locking up. Gunner backed Sting into a corner and the pair paused. Sting slowly raised his hands, releasing his hold on the younger man.

Gunner, too, released his hold and slowly began to back away. But he only went two steps before sending a vicious kick to the Icon's stomach.

Sting grunted and hunched over, trying to catch his breath. Gunner used that opportunity to grab him by the hair and lead him out to the center of the ring. As he righted him he sent a vicious punch to Sting's jaw.

The force of the blow sent the Icon to the canvas. Gunner looked to the crowd and raised his hands in victory.

Emma flinched at the vicious shots, but continued to watch the monitor. She silently prayed for Sting to be all right.

Gunner reached over and took a hold of Sting's arm, bringing him to his feet. He sent the other man into the ropes, ready to take him out with a clothesline. But Sting ducked the shot, hitting the ropes from the other side. As he came around he grabbed a hold of the back of Gunner's head and jumped up in the air, sending the younger wrestler's head crashing down to the canvas.

Sting got to his feet and turned to the crowd, howling. They returned the cheer. As did a few of the wrestlers in the back.

The Insane Icon returned to the other wrestler. He roughly rolled him over, grabbing a hold of his legs. He was about to put him in the Scorpion Death Lock when Gunner somehow managed to get free. He quickly rolled out of the ring and stood up, trying to get a breather.

Sting promptly left the ring and went after him. He grabbed a hold of the startled man and sent him crashing into the barricade. He backed up a few steps before taking off across the floor, intent of a Stinger Splash.

But at the last second Gunner ducked out of the way and Sting hit the unforgiving barricade. He hung on it, pain washing over his side in waves.

Emma cringed and looked away. She didn't know if she could keep watching this.

Not wasting any time, Gunner grabbed a hold of his arm and sent him shooting into the ring post. Sting cried out as pain shot through his back. He turned and staggered away, trying to fight through it.

Gunner came after him, diving a double ax handle into his back. Sting fell to one knee, teeth grit in agony.

The Immortal member grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet. He took him around to the other side of the ring, where the steel steps were located. A few of the fans began to cheer, realizing what he had planned. More yelled for Sting to snap out of it.

Gunner brought Sting to the steel steps. Gripping the back of his head, he started to slam him face first into the hard metal. At the last second Sting's hands came up, preventing the hit. Gunner glared down at him and tried again. And, again, he was thwarted.

He tried for a third time when Sting slammed his elbow into the other man's gut. Gunner let out an 'Oof' and staggered back. Sting went for another shot when Gunner suddenly kicked him in the gut. He followed it up by grabbing the Icon by the arm and sending him into the barricade.

But at the last second Sting turned it around, sending Gunner crashing into the unrelenting metal. Not wasting any time he tried for another Splash. This one connected, driving Gunner's back and side into the steel.

Gunner let out a yell, staggering away. Sting went after him, grabbing a hold of the back of his head. It was his turn to slam the younger man's face into the steel steps.

The younger wrestler hit it with great force and fell to the ground. Sting promptly covered him. Brian Hebner went to the ground and began to count.

"One. . .Two. . ." he was about to call out 'Three' when Gunner suddenly raised his shoulder.

Frustration began to rise up in the older wrestler, but he refused to give into it. He got to his feet, taking Gunner with him. Unexpectedly, Gunner sent an uppercut into Sting's gut.

He staggered back a few steps and the other man used that opportunity to turn and stalk off around the ring and towards the ramp. It was clear that he wanted nothing more to do with the Icon.

Sting looked up, noticing that Gunner was starting to leave. His eyes began to narrow and he took off in pursuit of the other man.

He reached him at the base of the ramp, turning him around. He sent a crashing blow into Gunner's face. Gunner staggered back a step before returning the shot. Soon both men were driving blow after blow into the other.

The pair continued to brawl their way up the ramp and through the curtain to the backstage area.

A few of the crew ducked out of their way while a couple of wrestlers who were milling about began to cheer for Sting or Gunner, respectively.

Emma ducked in front of them so that she could see what was going on. Her hand flew to her throat as she watched Gunner slam Sting into a set of nearby metal cabinets.

"Steve!" she cried out in alarm.

Gunner walked towards him and took hold of his hair, dragging him back a few steps. He went to punch him when Sting suddenly blocked the blow. He sent a punch of his own to the younger man. And then another. And still another.

He then grabbed a hold of Gunner's arm and sent him careening into the cabinets.

"Yeah!" James Storm cheered while Magnus called out, "Get 'im, Sting!"

Sting started to go after the injured man when Scott Steiner and Bully Ray appeared out of nowhere. They jumped on the Icon, driving their fists into his back.

Emma gasped, her eyes widening.

Sting started to fight back when suddenly James and Magnus jumped into the action. They pulled the Immortal members off the other wrestler and began to brawl with them, themselves.

Sting remembered Gunner and turned around to go after him. At that second Gunner, who had somehow gotten a hold of a steel pipe during all the ruckus, swung it at the Icon. Sting managed to move out of the way at the last second and sent a clothesline to the other wrestler.

Gunner hit the hard cement with a groan, momentarily dazed. Sting saw his chance and quickly grabbed his legs, getting him into position. He turned the beaten wrestler around and sat down, arms tightly locked around the other man's legs.

"Do you want to quit?" Brian Hebner asked Gunner.

Gunner let out a yell, his hands gripping his hair as pain shot through his back and legs. He grit his teeth as he fought not to tap out.

Sting stood up and, grinning at the man from over his shoulder, jumped back down into a sitting position.

Gunner let out a roar of pain and instantly beat the palm of his hand against the cement floor.

From somewhere down at ringside the bell rang. At the sound Sting released the fallen wrestler and took a step back. Brian raised his hand before kneeling down to see if Gunner was all right.

Breathing hard, Sting raked his hands through his hair before placing them on his hips. He looked down at Gunner and shook his head. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to see a small group of people, crew and wrestlers alike, watching and cheering him. Emma was standing off to the side of them, watching him. Though she tried to appear encouraging he could still see the concern in her eyes.

He smirked at her and offered a wink. She smiled back at him, reassured that he was all right.

Eric came storming around the corner, eyes flashing like fire.

"Come on." he snarl, grabbing Emma by the arm and yanking her away, "You've got work to do to get ready for my appreciation night."

Sting's eyes narrowed and he started to go after the pair. He stopped, though, when he saw Emma yank her arm free from Bischoff's grasp. She glared up at him defiantly before spinning on her heels and marching away to work on whatever the Impact owner had up his sleeve.

Sting's jaw tensed as he continued to watch Eric. He had to force himself to remain where he was, even when everything inside him was screaming out for him to kick the crap out of the arrogant piece of garbage.

No, he'd hold off for another few minutes. Then he'd show Bischoff what a real Appreciation Night was all about.

It wasn't long until it was almost time for the show to close. While the crew worked feverishly to get the ring set up for Eric Bischoff Appreciation Night, Eric and the rest of Immortal changed into tuxedos.

"I want everyone to look just right for my big night." the Impact owner practically crowed as he checked out his reflection in the mirror in his office, "Everything has to be perfect."

Emma stood in the corner of the room, eyes narrowed as she watched the conceited man.

Eric turned, finally noticing her. He looked down at her jeans and peasant top with a sneer.

"Why aren't you dressed up?" he demanded.

Emma gaped at him, "You mean that short, tacky red dress? I'm not wearing that, Eric."

"What do you mean you're not wearing it?" Eric pointed a finger at her, "Go put it on right now! I said everyone needs to look perfect for my big night and that means you!"

"I'm not wearing that!" Emma argued, "And you can't force me to."

Eric paused, his face slowly turning red with fury. Emma, though nervous, remained set. Her chin went up a notch as she awaited the tirade that was sure to follow.

But to her complete surprise he began to smile. It was the smile that unnerved her more than his anger.

"That's fine." he stated, "Of course that means I'll have to suspend you for, say. . .a year. Oh, and Emma, that doesn't count for your time here."

Emma threw her clipboard on the nearby couch. Without saying a word she snatched of the garment bag hanging on the coat rack and stormed out of his office.

"Women." Eric laughed to the other members of Immortal, "They always have to make everything so difficult."

Emma made her way down the hall and came to the women's dressing room. As she entered she slammed the door closed and threw the garment bag onto a nearby chair with a growl.

Tara and Velvet looked at one another with wide eyes before turning back to her.

"What's going on, sweetie?" Tara asked her friend.

"I hate him!" Emma snapped, "I know you shouldn't hate anyone, but I honestly hate him!"

"Eric." Velvet surmised and Emma nodded.

She ripped open the bag and looked down at the red dress with disgust. It was low cut and short, adorned with red sequins. It was tacky personified and she hated it. And she hated Eric Bischoff.

She quickly changed clothes, slipping into the awful dress. As she looked at herself in the mirror she wanted to cry. She never felt so cheap in her life.

"Well at least it fits you well." Velvet tried to be encouraging.

Tara whacked her across the arm and sighed, "I'm sorry, Em."

Emma shrugged, turning away from her reflection, "It's not your fault. Ugh! I hate this. I really hate this."

Raking a hand through her hair, she exhaled, "I better go back out there."

She exited the dressing room just as Immortal began to step out of Eric's office. They took one look at her began to catcall and whistle.

Karen Jarrett looked at her dress and scoffed, "That's no fair! Her dress is cuter than mine! Jeff, that's no fair!"

Emma wanted to sink into a hole in the floor.

She fell into step beside Eric and grumbled, "I don't see why I have to go out there, too. I'm not a part of Immortal."

"You have to go out there because I said so." Eric looked her over with a leer, "Now put a smile on that sweet face of yours and shut up."

Emma flashed him a sarcastic grin before turning away with a frown. Arms crossed and head bowed, she went down to ringside with the rest of Immortal.

She looked up and felt her stomach churn in revulsion. The entire ring had been decorated with multicolored streamers and balloons. A massive cutout of Eric's large, grinning head sat in the middle of the ring. On either side of it were television monitors.

Once she climbed into the ring she slipped into a corner, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Eric stepped into the ring, the rest of Immortal forming a semicircle around him. He picked up the mic, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Thank you! Thank you!" he called out to the crowd, "Thank you for coming out tonight and showing your appreciation for me!"

Emma arched an eyebrow. He couldn't seriously believe that. Especially with the way was crowd was booing him just then.

"You love me!" Eric went on, "You all love me! And to show my appreciation to you, I want to show you a video documenting my triumphs here at Impact Wrestling."

The monitor above the ramp, as well as the ones in the ring, cut to a video of Eric. As sweeping music played, everyone watched various clips of Eric. Clips of him abusing his power with other wrestlers. Clips of him taking the company from Dixie Carter. There were even a few clips of him trying to come on to Emma.

Emma turned away in disgust. She couldn't watch the footage any long because it made her sick to her stomach.

Suddenly the crowd began to laugh. Emma turned back to the monitors and her eyes widened in surprise. She slowly began to smirk.

The images depicted Eric's greatest hits, all right. But not the kind he would have liked. The footage had gone from Eric's love letter to himself to clips of Eric and Immortal getting their red paint bath. Followed by Eric being humiliated by Sting in a number of ways.

Emma found herself giggling as she watched. This had to be the greatest movie she had ever seen.

"Shut it off!" Bischoff raged, "Shut the damned monitors off!"

At that moment the lights went out. Emma could hear Eric screaming for someone to turn them back on while the rest of Immortal yelled and complained.

She let out a gasp when she felt strong arms come around her, hoisting her up against a hard chest.

Before she could struggle, though, she heard a voice murmur in her ear, "Let's just get you out of harm's way."

Sting!

She felt herself being carefully placed over the ring ropes and out onto the apron. As his arms released her she knelt down and quickly jumped to the floor below.

Instantly the lights came back on and there was Sting standing in the corner she had once occupied. In his hands was a fire extinguisher and on his face was a maniacal grin.

Emma felt her own grin grow as she watched the realization come over Immortal. They instantly began to back away, arms raised in surrender as they begged him not to do what he was planning on doing.

Sting looked out to the crowd, asking them what he should do. He was met with cries of "Do it!" and "Yes!"

He turned back to Bischoff, an evil light in his eyes. He suddenly let loose with the fire extinguisher, spraying Immortal down. Emma threw back her head and laughed as Eric and his cronies scrambled to get out of the way. But the only thing they managed to do was slip and slide around the ring, falling this way and that.

They were eventually able to get out of the ring and onto the ramp. They stood there, yelling and cursing up at Sting. He set the extinguisher down and reached into his trench coat. Immortal instantly backed away, fearful.

Sting removed his hand, holding a can of red spray paint. Grinning wildly, he shook it up and turned to the giant cutout of Eric's head.

"Don't you dare!" Bischoff bellowed, "Don't you dare do it, Sting!"

Sting raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide. As he continued to look at Eric he reached out and sprayed a mustache on Eric's cutout. He threw back his head and laughed before adding horns and a goatee to the mix.

Eric threw a fit, screaming and flaying his arms. He had to be physically dragged back up the ramp by the rest of Immortal.

Once Sting was finished with his makeover he looked out over the crowd with a bright grin. Turning back to the cutout he began to spray the word 'Impact' across Eric's forehead. That got a round of cheers from the crowd and even Emma found herself beaming.

He turned, noticing that she still stood down at ringside. Not taking his eyes off of her, he walked across the ring and jumped down to the floor below.

He reached out and took her hands, lifting them up at her sides as he took in the dress she was wearing. His eyes widened and he whistled. Even though the dress was tawdry, he had to admit she looked good in it.

Emma bowed her head, embarrassed by the attention.

"Looking good, Emma." he told her with a teasing grin, "Red's a good color on you."

She looked up at him and crinkled her nose, "Very funny."

He shrugged out of his jacket and came around behind her. He slipped it onto her, his hands resting on her shoulders for a few moments.

Emma felt her cheeks begin to warm. She bowed her head again and slowly reached up, slipping her hands into the sleeves. They trailed impossibly long over her arms. Sting began to smile. He couldn't help himself. The coat all but swallowed up her small frame and she looked absolutely endearing in it.

He reluctantly removed his hands and, placing a hand on the small of her back, led her towards the ramp. She was only able to go a few steps, though, when she tripped on the ends of the coat.

Sting caught her easily and turned her around, lifting her up into his arms. Emma looked up at him nervously as her arms slowly wrapped around his neck. His smile faded away as he regarded her with something unknown in his eyes.

But just as quickly the look was gone. Facing forward, he began to carry her up the ramp and behind the curtain. Emma continued to stare at him, though, her mind racing.

As well as her heart.

Once they reached the backstage area she cleared her throat, "Um, I think I can make it now. Thanks."

"You sure?" he was reluctant to set her down. The truth was, he liked the feeling of her in his arms.

"Yeah." she offered him a kind smile, "Thank you."

He set her on her feet and watched as she gathered up the coat and shuffled off down the hall to go change her clothes.

Rubbing the back of his neck he let out a sigh and headed off for the showers.

While he did that Emma quickly changed and returned to Eric's office. She was relieved to know that both he and Immortal had stormed out of the building. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as far as she was concerned.

She took up residence in his chair, opening up her day planner to the page that held all of Eric's passwords. She promptly turned on his computer and brought up the appropriate file. Checking to make sure she was using the correct password, she turned back to the screen and began to type. Soon the file opened and she started typing furiously on the keys.

If anything, she now had a chance to finish up her work without having to deal with Bischoff's constant come-ons.

She clicked on another file and typed in another of the passwords. Once the file was open she transferred the notes she had written down into it.

As that was going on the phone on his desk began to ring. Emma let out a sigh and stopped what she was doing to answer it.

"Hello?" she listened for a few minutes as one of the production staff asked her to okay some promo footage they had been working on.

"All right." she told them, "I'll be right down."

She hung up the phone and closed out of the file. Rising from the chair she let out a stretch and yawn and quickly left the room.

A few moments later the door opened, Sting stepping inside.

"Emma, do you. . ." his voice trailed off as he realized she was gone.

He paused, lips pursed. He slowly began to smile as he came to the decision that he would wait for her.

He walked around to the other side of Eric's desk and took a seat. As he sat down his eyes traveled to the day planner. They widened as he realized what was written in it.

Sting slowly turned to the computer. It was still on and the directory was up, showing a list of about twenty different files.

He tapped his fingers on the desk, contemplating. This could be his chance. Maybe if he had an idea what Bischoff was up to, he could somehow cut him off at the pass.

He once again regarded the day planner and he slowly began to frown. Emma.

Sting raked a hand through his hair, the wrestler at an impasse. He couldn't get her involved. After all, he had promised her he wouldn't.

But temptation was proving to be too sweet to pass up. It was there. Right there in those little files. All of Eric's dirty deeds. Maybe if he did enough digging he could get Bischoff booted out of the company and Impact delivered back into Dixie's hands. As it should be.

He wouldn't tell her. The less Emma knew about it the better. No, he had to keep her hands as clean as possible. And so she couldn't know.  
Decision made, he glanced once more at the passwords, taking note of one in particular. He reread it and quickly turned to the computer, bring up the appropriate file. He swiftly typed in the password and suddenly he was in.

His eyes widened as he took in the information staring back at him. The file was filled with finance records. And by the looks of them, Eric's books didn't seem to be on the up and up.

He quickly scanned the file before closing out of it. He went to another password and clicked on a new file.

He suddenly paused, fingers frozen on the keys.

"What are you doing?" he asked himself, disgust coming over him.

He let out a sigh and clicked off the file. He promptly rolled the chair away from the desk and stood up, walking away. He couldn't do this. It didn't matter if Emma didn't know, it didn't give him the right to use her passwords to try and beat Eric at his own game.

Jeez, he was becoming as bad as that little weasel.

No, he declared to himself, he couldn't, wouldn't, do it. He'd find another way to stick it to Bischoff.

He slipped out of the office and began to make his way down the hall. As he did so he spied Emma coming from the other direction. At the sight of her he felt equal parts happiness and guilt.

He had done the right thing, he decided. And he would never allow himself to be tempted by easy fixes again.

"Hey, you." he called out to her.

Emma looked up at him and smiled, "Hi. Why are you still here?"

"Didn't feel like leaving yet." he replied as he came to stand before her, "What about you?"

"I just thought I could get a little work in before I left." Emma explained, "Besides, I like being here after hours. It's so quiet, peaceful. Kind of homey, really."

Sting found himself grinning. He felt that way, too. He couldn't remember all the times he had stayed long after a show had ended. He would go and sit out in the arena and just take it all in. The quiet. The solitude. It was funny, but if he listened hard enough he could sometimes still hear the cheer of the crowd; feel their energy.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her.

At that moment her stomach began to growl. Emma's eyes widened and she promptly slapped her hands over it. Sting threw back his head and laughed.

"I take it that's a 'yes'." he teased.

Emma found herself giggling as she nodded, "I guess you could say that."

"So grab your stuff and let's go." Sting motioned for her to get her stuff.

"Okay." Emma smiled up at him before hurrying back to Bischoff's office.

She reemerged a few minutes later, slipper her purse high onto her shoulder.

"Ready to go?" Sting questioned and she nodded.

They walked out to his SUV and Sting helped her inside. As he ran around to the driver's side Emma settled back against the seat and put on her seatbelt. She caught her reflection in the side mirror and shook her head. She was grinning like a love struck school girl.

_Stop it_, she warned herself, _You look ridiculous._

She smoothed the goofy grin away as Sting eased in behind the wheel. He started up the car and soon they were heading off.

"So what do you feel like?" he asked as they drove down the street.

"Anything." Emma shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"How about steak?" Sting suggested.

"Oh." Emma looked down at her hands, "Steve, really, you don't have to-a burger would be just fine."

"Steak it is." Sting grinned at her.

Emma glanced over at him and smiled.

Eyes forward, he quipped lightly, "I was kind of hoping you'd be wearing that red dress."

"Very funny." she scoffed and playfully whacked his arm.

"Ow." he pretended to be hurt but the ineffective blow, "Ow, ow. You've got a real future in this business, M&M."

"Oh really." Emma laughed, "Wanna be my manager?"

"I thought we were tag team partners." Sting glanced at her, feinting hurt.

"Yeah, I forgot." Emma stuck her tongue out at him, "Just don't expect me to be the Harley Quinn to your Joker."

'I don't know." Sting glanced back at the street and pretended to ponder, "You'd look awfully cute in that harlequin outfit."

Emma glanced out her window, trying to keep Sting from seeing the blush rise up in her cheeks. She knew he was only teasing but still, she couldn't help but be flattered.

Her eyes slowly began to narrow in confusion as she realized they were heading for the outskirts of the city. The farther out they went, the more it they ran into sweeping neighborhoods.

"Steve," she turned back to him, curious, "Where are we going?"

"My house." he shrugged, giving her a grin, "For steaks."

Emma blinked and she bit her lip. His house. . .

It wasn't long until they pulled up to an exquisite home. Emma had to lean forward in her seat and stare up at it in awe.

It was stunning, Truly stunning. A redbrick drive leading to a iron fencing and gate. As Sting opened the gate, via remote, and began to drive through Emma could only look around in wonder. The house itself was astonishing. A lovely shade of cream and with a reddish-brown roof. It had high, arched windows and doorways.

They pulled around the circular drive, her eyes taking in the tastefully decorated landscaping of palm trees, perfectly manicured bushes and warm red flowers.

She looked back to him and breathed, "Oh, Steve, your home is beautiful!"

Sting grinned, touched by her obvious delight, "That's nothing. You should see the inside."

He parked the SUV and climbed out, walking around to open her door for her. Taking her hand he helped her out and led her to the front door.

As he unlocked and opened it, he took a step back and allowed her to check it out for herself.

Emma entered the foyer, her eyes automatically going to the high ceilings. The walls were a simple beige, the marble floor creamy in color. A massive staircase lay before her, the banister in black iron.

"Come on." Sting stated, taking her hand, "I'll get started on the steaks while you check out the backyard."

He led her to the kitchen and Emma found herself breathing deeply. This was her ideal kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, a large, spacious island. The cabinets were a beautiful dark mahogany and the marble was a sophisticated white, black and gray.

The kitchen opened up to a roomy breakfast nook. It was surrounded by large, arched windows and sitting in the center was a tiny, two seated table. It, too, was in the same dark mahogany. Outside the windows gave way to a spectacular view of the backyard.

The only thing she would have thought to add was maybe a wire rack hanging above the island, adorned with copper pots.

Emma felt herself blush, embarrassed by her thoughts. You would have thought she was moving in.

He led her out to the backyard. She looked around in wonder. It was huge, for one thing. An alcove ran the length of the back of the house. Seated underneath it was a wrought iron patio set.

The good sized pool was about sixteen or so feet from the back doors. An amazing rock fall, which doubled as a slide, stood adorning one side. On the other was a Jacuzzi with was decorated with a large rock and cute little palm tree.

She couldn't believe it. It was simply beautiful. And ideal back yard.

Emma stepped further out into the yard. Suddenly a dark blur came racing towards her. She only had time to turn a half step before a large German Sheppard tackled her to the ground.

"Bongo!" Sting called out before racing towards the pair.

He drew to a stop though and began to chuckle as he heard a laugh erupt from beneath the hairy beast.

Emma sat up and continued to laugh as the friendly animal all but attacked her with licks.

Sting's chuckling turned to laughter, as well. He couldn't help it. She had one of those deep belly laughs that he found infectious.

"Come on, mutt." he finally approached them and pulled the excited dog off.

Emma climbed to her feet, still giggling. She reached over and began to pet the Sheppard, who happily took in the attention.

"Nice guard dog you have here." she looked over at him with a grin.

"Meet Killer." Sting gave the dog a few hearty pats on the side, "Fiercest beast this side of the Mississippi."

"Obviously." Emma continued to giggle.

"This is Bongo." Steve explained as they headed back towards the house, "I've had him a couple of years now. And, as you can see, he still hasn't grown out of his puppy stage yet."

"I never would have guessed." Emma feinted surprise.

Laughing, the trio went into the kitchen. Bongo immediately abandoned the attention for a better offer of his food dish.

"There's a bathroom outside the kitchen and to the right." Sting told her, "If you wanna wash up."

As he began to wash his hands at the sink she hurried into the bathroom. After cleaning up she looked at her reflection in the mirror. That silly grin had returned to her face but she didn't care. She was having too much fun.

As she stepped back into the kitchen she noticed Bongo was laying by the door, happily gnawing on a bone. Sting was at the grill, grilling the steaks.

"Have a seat." he nodded towards one of the stools that sat at the island.

Emma hopped up and watching him as he continued to cook.

At that moment she heard a meow. Looking down she found a black cat staring up at her. It offered another meow before rising up on it's back legs and pawing at her pant legs.

"Hi, baby." she greeted the cat affectionately, lifting it into her lap. It instantly snuggled against her and began to purr.

She looked over at Sting with a raised eyebrow.

"Guard cat." Sting shrugged, smirking, "I found her a couple of months ago, wandering the road. I didn't want her to get hit so I just adopted her. I call her Venom."

"Venom, huh?" she chuckled, adding, "She acts more like a Sweet Pea to me."

"Don't let her fool ya." he turned back to the steaks and deadpanned, "She's got a purr that'll scare the pants off of you."

Emma began to laugh.

"So do you have any pets?" Sting inquired.

She looked down at the sweet cat and smiled sadly, "Unfortunately no. I'm not allowed to have pets in my apartment building. I wish I could, though."

"You ever considered getting a house?" Sting asked, glancing over at her.

Emma sighed, thoughtful, "I don't know. The truth is, I haven't thought about anything so. . ."

"So. . .?" Sting prompted.

"Permanent." Emma leaned down and nuzzled the cat's head, "At least that's what I used to think."

"But not now?"

She looked up and shook her head, "No."

She cast her eyes to Venom and smiled shyly, "Things have gotten better."

Venom meowed in response.

Emma let out a laugh and hugged the cat, "I think I just might have to steal her, you know."

"Well she's taken to you so I don't think stealing will be necessary." Sting smirked, "She'll probably go willingly, the little turncoat."

Venom settled down on Emma's lap and continued to purr happily.

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The week went by and another Impact show was underway. Emma made her way down the hall, but for once she wasn't in a rush or on edge. She was smiling softly, an expression she was sure hadn't left her face since the dinner at Sting's.

It had been a nice meal with the two of them in his kitchen. They had talked more about their pasts. Emma about working at the bookstore and Sting with his amazing stories of his life on the road as a wrestler.

The evening had ended a lot sooner than she would have liked and he had driven her back to the Impact Zone to retrieve her jeep. Then he had offered to follow her home to make sure she made it okay. Emma had told him it wasn't necessary but he had insisted. Touched, Emma had relented.

Sadly, she hadn't seen him since that night. But also, she was glad for it. It had given her a lot of time to think.

She had always lived her life on the safe side; never really taking any risks. But that had all changed. She had changed. Maybe it was because of all the changes she had had to face. Maybe it was because her life had been turned upside down. She didn't know.

All she knew was that she was a different person. She felt stronger. More confident. More willing to take chances.

And she had decided she was going to take a chance on Sting. That night, after the show, she was going to tell him how she felt.

Well, maybe not _exactly_ how she felt. She didn't want to scare him off, after all. But she was definitely going to tell him she had feelings for him and wanted to see if he'd like to see where things could go.

Just thinking about it, she could feel herself shaking. She may have been ready to take the chance, but that didn't mean that she wasn't scared about it. Okay, petrified was a better word.

The idea of taking a risk, especially one with her heart, was absolutely frightening.

But then she thought of Sting. Of how he took risks all the time. And she knew that if anyone was worth the risks, it was him.

She made her way to the backstage area. As she rounded a corner she drew to a stop and watched the monitors. Her eyes began to narrow as she watched Eric standing in the ring. He was grinning that Cheshire grin of his and she knew that could only mean trouble.

"Sting, get your psychotic ass down here." Bischoff ordered. And though his words had a bite to them, that wide grin remained in place.

It wasn't long before 'Slay Me' came playing out over the area. As the crowd began to cheer Sting emerged from behind the curtain. His eyes were narrowed, fixed on Bischoff in suspicion.

He came down to the ring and climbed between the ropes. He started to approach Eric when the shorter man took a few steps back, finger raised in warning.

"Uh, uh, uh." Eric told him, taking another step back, "You put your hands on me and I'll have you thrown out of this building."

"I think I'll risk it." Sting told him and took another step.

"You're going to want to hear what I have to say!" Eric called out, taking another step back.

Sting paused and regarded the other man closely. He hated to admit it, but he was curious.

"Okay, what do you want, Bischoff?" he asked.

"In a minute." Eric once again began to smile, "Emma, come down here right now!"

Emma looked at the crew, eyes wide. What could he possibly want with her?

She handed her clipboard to one of the crew members and, taking a deep breath, stepped out from behind the curtain and made her way to ringside.

Sting looked back and forth between Emma and Bischoff in confusion. And, by the expression on Emma's face, she was equally bewildered.

As soon as she stepped up onto the apron Sting came forward and parted the ropes, helping her inside.

She stared up at him in worry and he gave her a short wink and a pat on her back as comfort. She turned to Eric and shrugged, silently asking him what was going on.

"You're probably wondering why I called you out here." Eric grinned down at her, "You see, I thought it would be a good idea to give you an employee evaluation. Right here. Right now."

"What kind of game are you playing at, Bischoff?" Sting demanded.

"Oh in due time." Eric continued to look at Emma as he went on, "Emma, we've been working together for a little over six months, correct?"

"Yes." Emma murmured slowly.

She didn't know what Eric was planning but she didn't like it. Didn't like it at all.

"And in those six months, would you say you've been a model employee?" the Impact owner asked her.

"As much as she can be," Sting spoke up, "Considering that you had to blackmail her to get her to work for you."

Eric ignored him, instead fixing Emma with that unnerving gaze of his.

"I've tried to do whatever you've asked of me." Emma spoke up evenly, "So long as it wasn't underhanded, devious and didn't compromise my morals and ethics. Like all those times you've tried to hit on me or sleep with me."

Eric's smile disappeared for a moment and his eyes constricted. Sting began to grin, though, and he had to keep himself from kissing her right then and there. He was so proud of her for standing up for herself and letting everyone know what a piece of garbage Bischoff was.

"Interesting choice of words." Eric pondered that, getting back to the situation at hand, "You say you've not acted in an underhanded or devious manner."

"You know she hasn't, Bischoff." Sting muttered, tired of Eric's little game.

"Now, see, I don't agree with that." Eric turned his attention back to Emma, his smile once more returning, "No, I'd say you've been pretty devious as of late."

"How?" Emma demanded.

But Eric didn't answer her, "You see, I need somebody I can trust. Somebody who won't compromise Impact's trade secrets."

"What are you talking about?" Emma's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Even Sting was bewildered. What was Bischoff spouting off about now?

"Why don't you take a look." Eric continued to grin as he ordered, "Roll the footage."

Emma looked at Sting with uncertainty before casting her eyes to the monitor. Sting turned and glared at Eric, wondering what the little rat had up his sleeve. Eventually he, too, looked to the monitor.

The trio watched as the Impact logo disappeared, to be replaced with black and white footage of Eric's office. Emma was inside, seated at his desk. Her day planner was open and she was looking at it before turning to his computer to type something in.

Emma glanced over at Eric in bewilderment. Why was he showing video of her working?

She continued to watch as she answered the phone. She talked for a few moments before rising from the desk and exiting the office.

She was just about to turn to Eric and tell him "So what?" when she noticed the door open and Sting enter.

Realization hit the Icon like a ton of bricks and he slammed his eyes shut, silently cursing himself and Bischoff. He quickly opened his eyes and turned to Emma, silently willing her to look at him.

But she didn't notice him. All of her attention was directed at the large screen at the top of the ramp.

Emma watched as Sting entered the room and rounded the desk. He looked to Emma's planner, staring down at the page that was open. He took a seat at the computer and, after again checking the page to make sure what he had read was correct, he began to type furiously on the keyboard.

Everything in Emma went still. Sting watched with horrified fascination as her face went from baffled to a smooth, unreadable mask. And her eyes, those pretty eyes that had caught his attention so long ago, paled; the light inside them slowly flickered out and died.

As the monitor returned to the Impact logo Emma slowly looked over at him. Her face was still eerily blank.

"You used me." she replied quietly.

There was no accusing tone in her voice. In fact, there was no emotion at all. It worried him. Anger he could deal with. Tears he could handle, too. But the absolute void of emotion coming out of her was actually frightening. He didn't know how to deal with that.

"Emma, come on." he told her, "You know me. You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" she asked almost soundlessly, "It all makes sense now."

She was a fool. Such a naïve, love struck fool. She actually thought that there was a chance something could happen between them. She actually dared to hope. . .

But it was a lie. All of it. He didn't care about her. Probably never did. He was only using her to get dirt on Eric.

Sting shook his head at her, frustrated. He thought they were over her trust issues. He thought she trusted him. She had said she did. What did he have to do to get through that wall of hers?

He took hold of her hand and placed it against his chest, over his heart, and held it there.

"I didn't use you, Emma." he said adamantly, conviction in every word, "And I never wanted to hurt you. That's why I didn't tell you about the passwords. I didn't want to get you involved."

She eased her hand out of his grasp. Sting let her go reluctantly, everything in him screaming for him to do something, think of something, to get her to see that he hadn't meant for her to be involved.

He actually started to feel relieved, though, when she took his hand. Maybe she still believed in him after all.

She placed his hand over her heart and looked up at him expressionlessly.

"This is my heart." she whispered vacantly, "And you just broke it."

She let go of him and took a few steps back. She continued to stare up at him silently, face blank.

Eric, who had been standing back and surveying the scene with a grin, finally stepped up, "Oh, and one more thing. Emma, you're fired."

The pain, the rage, Sting had been feeling finally found it's target. He spun around and began to hammer Bischoff with blow after blow.

Emma didn't even watch the violent scene. As though she were on a sort of autopilot, she simply turned around and left the ring.

She made her way up the ramp and disappeared through the curtain, the sounds of Sting beating up Bischoff and the crowds' cheers of it following after her.

But she didn't hear anything. Didn't feel anything. She was too numb. Too hurt over what Sting had done.

"Emma-" Tara and Brooke came running up to her, meaning to console her.

But she simply walked passed them, oblivious to them, as she made her way towards Bischoff's office to collect her things.

"Emma, I'm so sorry." Jeremy Borash called out to her as she walked passed.

She entered the office and quietly closed the door. From there she picked up her notebook and her jacket. She slipped the notebook into her bag and put the jacket on. As she removed her hair from out of the collar she suddenly stopped, Eric's words finally breaking through her empty shell.

_ "You're fired."_

Not only had she lost Sting, That alone was enough to break her heart. But she had just lost her manuscripts, as well.

Everything seemed to speed up at that moment. The hand holding her bag began to shake.

Suddenly the dam broke, all the pent up rage and pain coming to the forefront.

Emma let out a yell and slammed the bag against the wall. She grabbed papers, folders, anything she could get her hands on and threw them around the room.

She slammed the palms of her hands against a nearby filing cabinet, too angry to feel the sting of the hit.

She slammed her closed fists against the wall before leaning against it, shaking; her breathing came out in harsh gasps.

After a few moments she turned around and slid down the wall onto the floor. Hugging herself, she bowed her head and began to sob.

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Pictures of the house I used as a basis for Sting's home: pictures/nice-house-4sale-miami-iid-121139992


	14. Part Fourteen: Escape

Emma slowly opened her eyes. She removed the blanket from over her head and sat up, looking around her room. What time was it?

She looked at her digital clock and her eyes widened. It was almost 11am. Why did she sleep in so late?

Realization struck her and she let out a groan, laying back down. She pulled the blanket back over her head and closed her eyes. She would have cried if she weren't already all cried out.

She felt drained. Both emotionally and physically. There was nothing she could do except relieve the other night over and over again in her head.

She would have laughed if she could. It was just so ridiculous. What was she thinking? _Steve Borden _interested in someone like her? Yeah, right. She should have known that there was something wrong there.

Two silent tears trailed out from under her lashes and down her cheeks. Emma's eyes suddenly flew open and she quickly sat up, dashing the tears away.

No! No, she wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to give in to her misery. She had done enough of that last night.

She surged out of bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face. As she dried it she began to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

The woman looking back at her appeared exhausted, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. She was actually surprised they weren't swollen.

"Ugh." she muttered and promptly turned away. She couldn't stand to look at herself any longer.

Emma wandered out to the living room and drew to a stop. The truth was, she didn't know what to do. She was at a complete loss.

She supposed she should just take a day to deal with what had happened. But that would mean having to deal with her emotions. And she was still too raw, too devastated, to do that.

She needed to do something. But what?

_Look for another job_, she thought with a smirk.

The smirk began to waver, though. Soon her bottom lip was trembling and she had to fight not to cry.

She let out a groan and rubbed her hands over her face. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to think about this. All she wanted was to be numb.

She removed her hands and it was then that she noticed her answering machine was lit up. Dread welled up inside her. She really didn't want to listen to messages right now.

And yet curiosity got the better of her. She just couldn't help herself.

Emma wandered over to the couch and curled up at one end. She hit the button for the machine and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"Emma," Tara's voice called out, "Sweetie, I am so sorry about what Bischoff did to you. Give me a call, okay?"

"Em," Chris Sabin's voice filled her apartment next, "Man, this sucks! Alex and I are gonna trash Bischoff's car. Maybe slash his tires and put sugar in his gas tank, too."

Emma couldn't help but smirk at that.

"Emma."

Her eyes opened and she slowly turned to the answering machine.

Sting.

"Emma, we've got to talk." his voice tried to appear even but she could hear the anxiety just below the surface, "Look, I'm sorry for-"

She quickly reached over and turned off the machine. She didn't want to deal with this right now. She didn't want to deal with him right now.

Correction, she didn't want to deal with him ever again.

She rose to her feet and went into her bedroom. Reaching under her bed she pulled out her suitcase and opened it. She began opening drawers and pulling out clothes, tossing them into the case. She grabbed a few clothes from her closet and added them to the pile.

She needed to get out of there. Away from everything, if only for a few days. If only to think.

She was packed and ready to go in a few minutes. She locked her apartment door and crossed over to her jeep. Throwing the suitcase in the back, she climbed in and started it up.

Within seconds she was taking off out of the parking lot and down the street.

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Sting sat in his gym later that morning, working out. It had been a long, rough, sleepless night. When he had staggered out of bed that morning he was still filled with anger. Anger he needed to get out.

And so he'd been in the gym, purging himself with an intense workout for hours.

Lowering the weights onto the bar, he leaned forward, scrubbing a hand over his face. Rising from the bench, he grabbed a towel and a bottle of water. He took a healthy swig of it before rubbing the towel over his face.

He emerged from his gym and began to make his way into the kitchen. As he did so Bongo came cautiously up to him, whining.

Sting leaned down and gave him a few healthy pats on his side, "Sorry, buddy. I know I'm not in the best of moods right now."

They went into the kitchen and he let the dog out. As he closed the door and turned around his eyes landed on his machine. Nothing.

As much as it was a long shot, he had hoped that maybe Emma would have called. He needed to talk to her. He needed to apologize again.

He closed his eyes and sighed, raking his hands through his hair. He could feel his anger simmering just below the surface, ready to erupt.

He needed to know what it was going to take for her to trust him.

Yeah, he was guilty for using her passwords. And she had every right to feel angry, maybe even violated, at that. He didn't fault her if she did.

But how could she believe he had been using her? After all the talks they had had, everything they had shared with each other, everything that had happened between them. . .how could she believe he didn't care about her? Why did it always come down to her not trusting him?

Sting leaned back against the island and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in thought.

He wondered why he bothered. Why did he have to keep going back to her? No woman had ever given him this much difficulty before.

But realization came over him as he slowly straightened, his arms falling to his sides. No woman had ever meant as much to him as Emma did. And she did mean something to him. He didn't know if it had an exact name. All he knew was that it was intense. And it never stopped.

He began to pace the length of the kitchen. She had to feel something for him, too. He was no longer convinced that she only saw him as a friend. She wouldn't have opened up to him the way she had. She wouldn't have reacted to him the way she had. The looks she'd given him, the shy smiles and sweet blushes. No, there was more there. He was sure of it.

He closed his eyes and went back to last night. To that horrible part where she had looked up at him with those dead eyes and taken his hand and placed it over her heart.

_"This is my heart. And you just broke it."_

For him to have broken her heart, that had to mean that she cared about him. Or, at least, she had. And if she had, he couldn't let her go now. He had to make things right between them. He had to. . .No, he _needed_ to make things right between them.

He needed to see her again.

He opened his eyes and headed off to get changed. He had to see her. Make her hear him out. And if she still couldn't believe him after that. . .

He didn't know what he would do then. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

But he was going to see her. And they were going to finally have it out.

He got changed in record time and took to the road, driving towards her apartment building.

It wasn't long before he reached it. As he climbed out of his SUV and made his way towards her door his mind raced. He tried to figure out what he was going to say to her but, for once, he was at a loss for words.

He stepped up to her door and knocked urgently on it.

When no answer came he tried again.

When still no answer came he tried a third time, this time calling out, "Emma, open up! We need to talk!"

But still there was nothing.

"Oh, she's not there."

Sting turned around, noticing the neighbor in the apartment adjacent to Emma's was standing there watching him. The attractive young woman regarded him with a bright smile and cocked her hip to one side, hand resting on it.

"Sorry but you just missed her by, like, an hour." the woman told him.

"Do you know when she'll be back?" Sting inquired.

The woman shook her head, "I couldn't say. Sweet girl, that one, but awfully quiet. Anyway, I saw her leaving this morning with a suitcase. So I think it might be awhile."

Sting swallowed, everything in him going still. A suitcase. . .

"Are you okay?" the woman took a step towards him and offered another bright smile, "Would you like to come in and talk about it?"

"What?" Sting blinked, coming out of his thoughts, "Um, no. No thank you."

He turned and headed back towards his SUV. As he did so he pulled out his cell phone and quickly punched in a number.

"Hello?" Tori answered a few seconds later.

"Tori, have you talked to Emma?" he got right to the point.

"Sting. . ." Tori's voice trailed off and he could tell she was thinking.

"Tori, please." he implored her, "I've got to talk to her. Please, if you've spoken to her-"

"I. . ." he could hear her taking a breath before she went on, "I did. She called me a little while ago. She told me she was leaving for awhile. She said she needed to get away and take some time to think."

"Where?" he asked.

"I don't know." Tori replied, "The truth is, Emma's not so sure herself. She said she was just going to drive for a little while and see where she ended up. She promised she'd call me, though, when she found a place to land.

"I'm really sorry." she went on, "I wish I could tell you more."

"No, you've been great. Thanks." he paused, something in his mind clicking, "Is Bischoff there?"

"Eric? Yeah." Tori told him, "He and Gunner are working on some promo for Gunner. They're filming it right now, actually."

"Do you think I still have time to get there?"

"Sure." Tori replied, "They've just started and you know those things can take all day. Why?"

"You'll see." Sting said before hanging up.

He quickly jumped into his SUV and went tearing out of the parking lot.

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Eric stood behind the camera and watched Gunner as he recited his promo. The Impact owner's closed, his hand clasping the bridge of his nose.

"Cut!" he bellowed in irritation, "Cut! Gunner, you're putting me to sleep back here. Either do it again, and do it right, or I'll get Bully Ray to do it!"

Gunner looked over at the smaller man, his eyes slowly constricting. Eric noticed that his fists began to clench and he took a slight step backwards.

"All right." Gunner muttered darkly, "Sorry, Mr. Bischoff."

"Action!" Eric snapped and the Immortal member started again.

He turned away, not really concentrating on Gunner's promo. The truth was it wasn't even the promo, as bad as it was, that made him angry. No, he had been angry ever since last night.

He had been so certain that Emma would have come begging for her job back by now. In fact, he expected her to have done it last night.

But no. When he had gotten back to his office he hadn't found the sweet young thing waiting for him. Instead he had found a disaster area. The she-bitch had torn the place apart.

He couldn't help but smirk at that. She really was a little spitfire and he was sure she would be a firecracker in bed.

He let out a sigh and returned to Gunner. Oh well. She'll swallow her pride eventually. And then he'll go easy on her. He began to smile slowly. Well, maybe not quite so easy.

Eric watched as Gunner stepped into the ring and stood on the ropes.

"This is my house." the young wrestler growled into the camera, "And if you come into my house, you're gonna get stomped."

He took a few steps back, slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand. Even Eric had to admit that he looked ridiculous.

"I'm Gunner and I-"

Whatever else Gunner was going to say promptly died when the lights did. The arena was unexpectedly pitched in darkness.

"What the hell?" Eric raged, "What the hell is going on? Turn those lights back on now!"

Almost as if in answer the arena was once again lit up. Eric's eyes widened as he discovered that Sting was standing behind Gunner. The older wrestler was decked out in his ring gear and face paint, his baseball bat in his hand.

"Gunner, look out!" Eric warned.

But it was too late. As Gunner spun around Sting delivered a vicious blow to his gut. Gunner gagged and, clutching his stomach, sank to one knee. Sting grabbed a hold of the younger man's hair, his eyes never leaving Bischoff's face. Though his face paint was that of the Insane Icon, there was nothing but malicious intent darkening the wrestler's features.

"Yo-you let him go right now, Sting." Eric demanded, "Let him go right now and leave and I won't fire you."

"You don't have the stroke." Sting growled, "Besides, I'm not some innocent woman you can screw over for the fun of it."

And with that, he sent another brutal shot, this time to Gunner's back. The Immortal member's back arched as he cried out in pain.

"That doesn't concern you!" Eric yelled, "What happened is between me and Emma!"

"Like heck it is!" Sting snarled and sent another blow to Gunner's back, "You set her up, Bischoff. You set her up to get fired so that you could force her to sleep with you to get her job back!"

"It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't used her passwords." Eric spit back at him.

Sting paused, glancing down at the bat in his hand. He shook it a few times, his eyes narrowing in thought.

While that was going on Tori slipped into the arena and made her way down the ramp to ringside. She looked back and forth between wrestler and owner, her eyes wide. She had heard the commotion and come to check it out. She was completely surprised by what she had found.

"I know." Sting looked back at him and muttered, "I know my part in all of this. And I'm going to do whatever I can to make it up to her."

He cast dark eyes to the fallen Gunner, "And if that means I have to go through ever single member of Immortal to do it, I will."

He slowly turned back to Eric and finished, "Ending with you."

"Don't you threaten me, you freak." Eric snarled.

"Oh, it's not a threat, Bischoff. " Sting offered a cold, dark laugh, "It's a promise."

And with that he yanked Gunner up by his hair. Turning him around, he delivered a Scorpion Death Drop to the injured man.

As he rose to his feet he retrieved his baseball bat and slowly pointed it at the Impact owner.

"Give Emma her job back." he warned, "Or I'm coming after you."

At that the lights went out again. When they came back on Sting was gone.

Eric gulped, his concerned gaze going to the fallen Gunner. The Impact owner's face was ash white and he was shaking ever so slightly.

He slowly looked around and noticed that the crew was staring at him with disgust.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded, "Get some help down here, dammit!"

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Emma leaned back against the headboard of the hotel bed. It was getting late and she was beyond tired.

She had spent the entire day just driving. Where, she didn't really know. She hadn't had much of a plan, aside from getting out of Orlando. And the only reason why she had eventually stopped was because she had grown too tried to drive any farther.

She laid down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. This was the moment she had been dreading. With nothing left to occupy her mind her thoughts turned to Sting. She had been able to put him out of her mind the whole day, but she knew it was just a matter of time until he crept back in like some marauder.

She closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh, a single tear trailing down her cheek. As she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling more tears began to fall. Hugging herself, she rolled onto her side and cried out her grief.

Grief. Such an aptly named word. She felt like she was grieving; suffering some undeniable loss like the death of a loved one.

And, in a way, she supposed that was what it was. She had been in love with him. And she had lost him. Forever.

How could this have happened? How could she have allowed herself to fall so hard, so deeply, in love with him?

She opened her eyes and wiped at her face. Rolling onto her back she once again cast sad eyes to the ceiling.

The truth was, she hadn't allowed herself. She couldn't stop herself. Falling in love with him was like breathing. It just. . .was.

The girlhood crush of her youth had grown into love the moment she had gotten to know him. Actually, 'knowing' him didn't quite describe it. No, it was more like 'experiencing' him.

And what she had experienced was a man who was brave and courageous. Who was selfless and big hearted. Who stood up for whatever he believed in and didn't back down no matter the cost.

Or, at least, that's who she thought Sting was. The savior of Impact, willing to do whatever it took to get rid of Immortal.

She felt a cold smile cross her lips. Yeah, he'd do whatever it took to get rid of Immortal, all right. Even if he had to use her to do it.

She let out a shaky sigh and sat up. She couldn't think about that right now. She'd just make herself go crazy if she did. No, what she really needed right now was sleep.

Emma eased off the bed and knelt down to retrieve her suitcase. Lifting it onto her bed, she threw it open, pawing through it to find her pajamas.

As she did so she slowly paused, her eyes widening in surprise.

Her notebook was sitting at the bottom of the case. She hadn't even realized she had packed it.

Reaching out, Emma slowly took hold of it and lifted it up. Her fingers trailed across the cover as she regarded it silently.

She eased back onto the bed and opened it, flipping to a new page.

Whenever she had a an idea that just had to be put down, a problem, or a bad day, or just needed to let everything out, she would turn to her notebook and write.

But she hadn't written in so long. The words hadn't come in so long. What if they never did again?

She turned to the nightstand and opened it, relieved to find a pen inside. She turned back to the empty pages and stared down at them.

Slowly, cautiously, the words began to come. They were tentative, tripping and stumbling over one another. She had to do much crossing out and adding, but they came. Soon they were flowing at a faster pace and she had to hurry to keep up with them.

She ended up working on and on late into the night until, at last, she fell asleep, clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield.. . .

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She was awoken that next morning to the sounds of her phone going off. She quickly sat up and looked around in confusion.

Eventually realizing where she was, she reached over and picked it up off the nightstand.

"Hello?" she yawned.

"Where are you?" Tori's worried voice filled her ear, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Sorry, Mom." Emma laid back down and rolled onto her side, "Don't ground me."

"Not funny." Tori muttered.

"I'm sorry." Emma sincerely apologized, "I got in late last night and crashed. I'm sorry for worrying you."

"It's all right." Tori asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." Emma replied, thoughtful, "I think I'm too tired to feel much of anything right now."

"So where are you?" Tori asked.

"About twelve hours outside of Orlando." Emma remained vague. Not that she didn't trust Tori, but she thought it best that nobody knew exactly where she was.

"Do you have a laptop with you?" Tori unexpectedly asked her.

Emma sat up, her eyes narrowed in confusion, "I don't have a laptop. I have a desktop. Why?"

"Can you get to a computer?"

Emma pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it in bewilderment.

Bringing it back, she answered, "There's a cyber café right down the road. Why?"

"Just go there and call me when you're online." was all her friend would tell her.

Worry began to well up deep inside her chest. Had something happened?

_Had something happened to Steve?_

Despite all that had happened between them, at the first notion that something might have been wrong with him she instantly felt afraid.

Emma jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed. She walked out of the hotel and down to the café.

As she entered she punched in Tori's number.

"Okay, I'm here." she told her as she took a seat at an empty computer, "What's going on?"

"Go online and go to the Impact site." Tori instructed her.

"Tori, why can't you just tell me what's going on?" Emma demanded, her panic starting to rise.

"Trust me, it's better if you see it for yourself." was all her friend would say.

Emma went online and typed in the address for Impact. As she clicked on the site she leaned back in her seat, her eyes wide.

Staring back at her was a picture Sting, standing over a fall Gunner, baseball bat in his hand. Under the picture was the caption: STING OUT FOR REVENGE

She clicked on the picture and was instantly taken to a video. Her eyes widened as she silently watched on.

Gunner was in the empty Impact Zone, performing a promo for the camera. Suddenly the lights went out and there was Sting. He attacked the younger wrestler, knocking him to the ground. He then proceeded to threaten Eric in between issuing vicious shots to the fallen man.

_"Give Emma her job back. Or I'm coming after you." _was his final warning before the arena was once again bathed in darkness.

"Well?" Tori prompted after a few minutes of silence.

Emma closed out of the site and turned away. She blinked back her tears, fighting to stay in control.

"It doesn't matter." she murmured, shaking her head.

"Doesn't matter?" Tori repeated, surprised, "Emma, didn't you watch the video? He's going after Immortal to get your job back!"

"And it wouldn't have been in jeopardy to begin with if he hadn't used me." Emma argued as she rose to her feet and started walking out of the café.

"I don't think he used you." Tori told her gently, "He just made a mistake."

"Yeah, well I'm getting tired of his 'mistakes'." Emma muttered.

"Emma, come on." Tori tried to get her to see reason, "If Sting had used you, then why would he try to get your job back?"

"Maybe he feels guilty." Emma replied, "Maybe he can't get anymore information without his little mole around, who knows."

"Emma-" Tori sighed, but the other woman cut her off.

"Thank you for what you're trying to do." Emma told her, "I do appreciate it, Tori. But I just don't believe it. Once bitten, twice shy. Only now it's been about three times bitten and I don't have anymore blood left to give."

She bid her friend goodbye and hung up the phone. She walked a few more steps until she came to a bench. Sitting down, she leaned forward, head in her hands.

She couldn't do it again. She could risk taking another chance on him. Her heart couldn't take it.


	15. Part Fifteen: Nowhere Left to Hide

Eric made his way through the Impact Zone, his eyes darting this way and that. Since last week, after Sting's surprise attack, he had remained vigilant and on the look out. He just knew that freak was going to strike again. Only this time, he was ready.

He glanced over his shoulders to Steiner and Bully Ray. They had become his unofficial bodyguards, making sure to keep Sting at bay should he try and pop up again.

The only thing was, was that he hadn't tried.

And it was making the Impact owner nervous. He was just certain that the freak was going to strike at any time and at any moment.

They continued to make their way down the hall and towards ringside. As their music hit and the trio emerged from behind the curtain the crowd instantly began to boo them.

Eric ignored the jeers of the idiot masses and continued on, his eyes darting this way and that. Sting was out there, somewhere. Watching and waiting. He was sure of it.

He climbed into the ring and demanded the mic. Snatching it out of Christy's hand he returned to the center of the ring and barked, "Cut the music!"

The music abruptly stopped but the boos from the crowd continued on. A few of them even began to chant, "You screwed Emma! You screwed Emma!"

Eric regarded them darkly before turning his attention to the camera positioned directly before him.

"You think you can intimidate me, Sting?" he called out with narrowed eyes, "You think you can bully me to get what you want?"

"If there's one thing I hate, it's a bully." Bully Ray interjected in disgust.

"Because it's not going to work." Bischoff went on, "You can threaten me all you want. You can attack Immortal all you want. It won't change anything. Emma is fired. She is going to stay fired. And she is never coming back."

Steiner and Bully Ray looked at one another in surprise, eyes wide. Attack Immortal? They turned their attention back to Eric and it was clear by the looks on their faces that they weren't happy with their boss's announcement.

But Eric, oblivious to them, continued on, "Face it, Stinger. You lost. Impact is mine. Emma is gone. You have nothing. So just move on. Or else I'll make your life a living hell."

"Wow," the monitor above the ramp suddenly came on, Sting looking down at Bischoff and his crones, "You really told me, huh, Bischoff?"

At his sudden appearance sweat began to break out on Eric's forehead. All of a sudden he didn't appear quite so confident.

"Do you think a few empty threats from you is going to stop this?" Sting demanded and he began to laugh, "When are you going to get it? It's not going to stop. I'm going to keep coming at you until you rehire Emma."

He leaned in close, his smile fading away and something dark coming to his eyes, "So you have to ask yourself: How far are you willing to push this, Bischoff? Because I know how far I'm willing to go. Think about it."

The monitor went black and a couple of seconds later so did the Impact Zone.

Eric, panicked, dove to the ground and scurried away. He kept going until he felt the ring ropes in front of him. He quickly slid under them and landed on the ground with a 'thud'.

As he rose up on his knees the lights came back on. He looked up and he gasped as he discovered Sting standing behind Steiner and Bully Ray.

Bully was the first one of feel something wasn't right. As he turned around Sting leveled him with his bat. The wrestler went down to his knees, gripping his stomach. Steiner spun around and took in the scene with alarm.

He quickly raised his arms, meaning to hit the Insane Icon with a double ax handle. Sting was prepared, though, and he drove the end of his bat into the other man's gut.

Steiner staggered a few steps, the wind knocked out of him. Sting hit him across the legs and suddenly Steiner was down. Sting turned his attention back to Bully Ray, who was getting to his feet. He quickly grabbed him and set him up for the Scorpion Death Drop. As soon as the Immortal member went down he moved onto Scott.

Sting grabbed a hold of his legs and hooked him up for the Death Lock. As he turned the fallen man around he came to face Bischoff. As he sat down he pointed a finger at the Impact owner and bared his teeth. Whether it was a grin or a sneer was anyone's guess.

Eric looked from his injured henchmen to the determined and brutal man in the ring. He swallowed, fear coursing through his body.

Sting reached over and picked up the mic. Still holding Steiner in the lock, he lifted it and called out, "What's it going to be, Bischoff? Do you let Emma come back or do I come after you?"

Eric began to back away, shaking his head.

"You're crazy!" he yelled up to the other man, "You're nuts! You stay away from me, you freak!"

Sting released the hold and stood up. Jumping out of the ring he took off for the smaller man.

Fearful, Eric spun around and took off for the back. Sting was hot on his heels, though. Eric raced around a corner, Sting almost reaching him. But as he, too, went around the corner he was tackled by Jeff Jarrett, who was waiting to strike.

As Sting went down Bischoff kept going through the building and to a waiting limo in the parking lot. He was soon gone from view.

Jeff, meanwhile, grabbed a hold of Sting and lifted him up. He was about to kick him when the Icon ducked out of the way at the last minute. He leveled the other man with a vicious blow, causing Jeff to hit the ground.

Sting look a few steps back, hands on his hips. He looked after the direction Eric had just gone with narrowed eyes.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Turning, the wrestler made his way back down the hall. As he did he spotted Tara and Brooke standing a few feet away. The pair had been watching with wide eyes, taking in the scene. As soon as they noticed that he was watching them they promptly ducked away, trying to appear inconspicuous.

"Where is she?" he asked the Knockouts as he approached.

"I don't know." Tara tried to assure him.

Sting looked at her closely, clearly not buying it.

"Really, Sting," Brooke added nervously, "We don't know. Emma didn't tell us. All she said was that she needed to get away for a little while."

Sting turned way, raking his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes, willing himself to control his temper.

"Sting, maybe it would be best if you gave her some time." Tara told him gently.

He wheeled around on her and she swallowed, taking a small step backwards.

He shook his head and sighed, "You're right. I'm sorry. I just need. . ."

He looked out over the hallway, a humorless smile forming on his lips. The truth was, he didn't know what he just needed.

No, that wasn't true. What he just needed was Emma.

Tara reached out and placed a tentative hand on his arm, "You two will work it out. I'm sure of it. She just needs time to think."

Sting nodded. He'd give her her space. But he wasn't giving up on her.

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Emma pulled away from her computer as the sounds of knocking filled her apartment. She had slipped back into town a day or two ago. During that time she had remained holed up, writing furiously. She couldn't stop herself. The words just kept coming.

She glanced back the screen and closed out of the file.

Trepidation filled her as she stepped out into the living room and over to the front door. Only a very few, namely Tara, Tori and Brooke, knew she was back. She had told them to keep it secret and she only hoped they had respected her wishes.

She slowly went up on tiptoe and peaked through the peep hole. As she discovered the identity of her visitor she exhaled with relief and opened the door.

"Tara." she greeted her friend warmly.

Tara entered the apartment and gave her a big hug, "Hey, sweetie, welcome back."

"Thanks." Emma gave her a small smile before closing the door and walking over to the couch.

The pair sat down, turning to one another.

"How are you?" Emma asked her friend.

"Fine." Tara arched an eyebrow at her, "How are you? How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." Emma sighed, crossing her arms, "The truth is, I just feel tired. And angry."

Tears pricked her eyes as she added, voice catching, "And hurt."

Before Tara could console her, though, Emma blinked the moisture away and stood up, offering, "Would you like something to drink? I have water, juice-"

"Em." Tara called out to her friend, "You don't have to act strong. It's a lousy situation and you have every right to be upset."

"I'm not going to break." Emma told her, adamant.

"Sometimes it's okay to break." Tara replied gently.

"No." Emma shook her head, "I've already done it. It's time I toughened up."

"Emma-"

At that moment the phone rang. Emma sighed and closed her eyes. She knew who it was. The same person who had been calling over and over again.

"Emma," Sting's voice, soothing and gentle, called out from the machine, "You can stop pretending that you're not there. I know you're back in town, sweetheart."

Emma looked at Tara. The other woman raised her hands up and shook her head.

"We need to talk." he went on, "Please, just pick up the phone."

"Fat chance." Emma scoffed.

After a few minutes of silence she heard him exhale, irritation beginning to creep into his voice, "Emma, come on, answer the phone."

"How many times has he called?" Tara wanted to know.

"A couple," Emma shrugged, "I still wish I knew how he figured out I was back."

"It's Sting." Tara smirked at her, "He has his ways."

"True."

"Emma, dammit, pick up the phone!" Sting snapped. A few seconds later she heard the dial tone.

Emma found herself involuntarily smirking as she mused wirily, "Wow, he must be serious if he's actually cursing."

"No kidding." Tara agreed, equally surprised, "So are you going to call him?"

Emma stared down at the machine with hesitation. She couldn't talk to him. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because she worried if she did she would let her emotions get the better of her and then he would sweet talk his way back in and it would all begin again.

And her heart couldn't take that.

"You know if you don't call him," Tara considered, looking pointedly at her, "He might just show up on your doorstep."

She slowly began to smile, "That could be fun."

Emma gave her a look and sighed. She had a point. The last thing she needed was to see him face-to-face. Not right now. She couldn't trust herself if she did.

She snatched up the phone and punched in Sting's number.

"Emma." a single word, spoken in a low tone. And yet it was enough to cause her heart to speed up and her body to tremble.

She closed her eyes and mentally built up her armor. She could do this. She could be strong.

"Don't call me again." she told him, and was relieved to hear that her voice sounded firm, "I mean it. Leave me alone."

And with that she hung up.

Almost a half a minute later the phone rang again. She knew who it was even before he spoke.

"I'm sorry." he sighed into the machine.

"Yeah, I bet you are." Emma muttered with a frown.

"Emma, at least give him a chance to explain." Tara interjected.

Emma shook her head, "I can't. Not right now. I just. . .I just want him to leave me alone."

"This isn't over, Emma." Sting issued a final warning before hanging up.

Emma looked over at Tara with wide eyes. She was definitely in trouble.

"Did you watch the last Impact?" Tara asked her.

Emma nodded, slowly sinking back onto the couch. Oh yes, she had watched it. A couple of times, if she were to be completely honest.

"He really wants you to get your job back." Tara chuckled good-naturedly.

"When's he going to let it go?" Emma looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"This is Sting we're talking about." Tara reminded her, "When does he let anything go?"

Emma bit her lip and glanced over at her friend. Tara gave her a look.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for Eric." she stated before pausing and shaking her head, "No, I take that back. He's a cretin and I don't feel sorry for him one bit."

Tara laughed before calming down to ask, "So what are you going to do now?"

Emma glanced down at her hands, "I. . .I've been doing a lot of thinking. And I think it would best if I went back to California."

"Oh, Emma, no." Tara shook her head, "You can't do that!"

"What can I do, Tara?" Emma raised her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, "What other choice do I have?"

"You have the choice to stay here and fight!" Tara replied adamantly.

"Fight for what?" Emma argued, "Eric's won. I'm out of a job and he's got my manuscripts. There's nothing left to fight for."

Tara stared at her with something akin to annoyance.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." she stated, "I'm sorry, but aren't you the same girl who traveled clear across the country, to work for a man you despise, so that you could hang on to your stories? What happened to that girl? You know, the one who was brave and took chances? Where did she go?"

"She got her heart broken and she gave up!" Emma snapped, unshed tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "She has nothing left to fight for!"

Tara glanced down at her hands with narrowed eyes.

"You know what, maybe you're right." she stated as she rose to her feet, "Maybe you aren't that girl anymore. But the girl you are now, the one wallowing in self pity, she doesn't deserve to get her stories back."

Emma also jumped up, her eyes flashing like fire, "How can I fight when Eric's holding all the cards, Tara? How can I fight when I don't even have any leverage?"

Tara stopped, her temper slowly receding. Maybe that girl wasn't completely dead and gone after all.

"It's not going to be easy." she told the smaller woman, "Heck, sweetie, it's going to be darn near impossible. But as long as there's a chance you have to try."

She bumped her arm and began to grin, "Come on, you're the writer. Figure out some awesome plan. And make sure I have a huge part in it, okay?"

Emma found herself smiling. Soon the pair were laughing and they shared a hug, the two friends instantly reconciling..

"Just don't give up." Tara told her as she pulled back, "And while you're at it, maybe you can forgive Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome."

"Tara-" Emma pulled away and shook her head. That was really asking too much.

"I've seen him, Emma." her friend replied quietly, "And I think he's truly sorry for what happened."

Emma started to protest but Tara raised her hand and relented, "Okay, okay. One thing at a time. Anyway, I better get going."

They walked to the door and shared another hug.

"Just think about everything I said, okay?" Tara told her, adding with a grin, "And don't make any life altering decisions until you've thought about it for at least, say, two months, okay?"

Emma snorted and nodded, "Okay. I promise."

Tara grinned and heading off. Emma closed the door after her and leaned back against it, her eyes clouding over in thought.

She wandered back into her bedroom and took a seat at her computer. She brought up the file she had been working in and stared at the pages.

It was the beginnings of a new story. One about fears and dreams, about taking chances and about finding love.

She slowly began to frown. And about losing love.

It was her story. Of course some things were different. Places, events, but the emotions remained the same.

It was her therapy; a way to work through her thoughts and feelings. It was a chance to ease the ache in her heart. If only slightly.

Emma let out a sigh and went back to work.

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Jeff and Karen Jarrett stood in their dressing room a few nights later. It was Impact's annual Hardcore Justice Pay Per View and Jeff was getting ready to face Mr. Anderson for the title.

As he primped and preened in the mirror Karen stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her overly made up face.

"Why are we here?" Karen whined, "Why are we here when there's a lunatic running around?"

Jeff looked over at his wife and offered her a placid smile, even if it was taking everything in his power not to cringe at her earsplitting voice.

"Because it's Hardcore Justice." he stated with an arrogant smile, "Because I'm going to win the Heavyweight Championship against Mr. Anderson tonight, that's why."

"But what if. . ." Karen looked around nervously, "_You know who_ shows up. He said he was coming after Immortal. He's already taken out Gunner, Scott and Bully Ray. What if he comes after us next?"

"He won't come after us." Jeff tried to reassure her, "He's got no reason to. Bischoff is his real target. We just stay away from Bischoff and Sting will leave us alone."

"You don't know that." Karen argued.

Jeff paused. It was true. He didn't know that. But he hoped he was right. Because the last thing he wanted to do was go up against Sting. Especially a pissed off, out-of-control Sting.

"Look," Jeff patted his wife's arm and gave her a quick kiss, "Everything is going to be all right. All right? Now why don't you just go out and ask one of those little peons out there to go get you a drink or something and let me finish getting ready."

Karen stomped her feet and spun on her heels, storming out of the room. Jeff could hear her still gripping as she stepped outside. She suddenly let out a screeching order to one of the crew outside the door. But she didn't stop there as she continued to whine and snap and hiss at anyone she came into contact with.

He turned back to the mirror and began to flex. He smiled at his reflection, the veteran so confident that he had the match in the bag.

Suddenly something caught his attention and he paused, listening.

He couldn't hear Karen anymore.

Eyes narrowed in confusion he turned and exited the dressing room. His wife was nowhere to be found.

"Karen?" Jeff called out, looking up and down the backstage area, "Karen, where did you go?"

He began to make his way through the corridors, searching high and low for his wife. As he continued on his foot suddenly bumped into something. He looked down and his eyes widened.

Laying on the ground was one of Karen's Manolo Blahnik's. Jeff leaned down and picked it up, examining it.

Panic surged through him and he promptly stood up, calling out, "Karen! Karen, where are you?"

From somewhere in the distance he heard the distinct sounds of his wife's muffled voice.

"I'm coming!" Jeff cried out and took off down the hall.

He slipped behind a line of metal cabinets and drew to a stop, gasping.

There was Karen a few feet away. She was tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth. She was stomping her feet and moving back and forth in an effort to try and free herself.

Jeff hurried to his wife's side and knelt down, working on the ropes that bound her hands to the arms of the chair.

"Who did this?" he demanded as he untied one wrist, "Was it that son-of-a-bitch Sting? I'll kill him!"

Karen suddenly looked over his shoulder. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers and she began to shriek from behind her gag, pointing with her free hand.

"What?" Jeff started to turn around when he felt a hand clamp down on his hair and yank him to his feet.

He managed to look out of the corner of his eye and he issued a silent scream as Sting took hold of him, locking an arm around his neck.

"Hey, Jeff." the Icon smiled down at him, "I see you found Karen. Personally, I think the gag is an improvement. What about you?"

"N-now, Stinger, you don't want to do this." Jeff stammered as he tried to break free from the other man's steely hold. But it did no good. He was trapped.

"Yeah, you know what, Jeff?" Sting's grin grew, "I kind of do."

And without another word he delivered a Scorpion Death Drop, immediately knocking Jeff out.

Karen continued to scream from behind her gag. She thrashed this way and that, desperate to get loose and away from the unstable wrestler.

Sting leaned over her, playfully patting her on the cheek. She growled at him and yanked her head away, batting at him with her unbound hand.

"Ta ta, Karen." Sting chuckled at the captured woman, "I've got to go see that piece of garbage you call a boss. Oh, and have fun with your hubby there."

Chuckling darkly, Sting turned and walked away to the sounds of Karen's irate shrieks. Even with a gag stuffed into her mouth, she was still insufferably loud.

He made his way back up the corridor, his eyes on the lookout. Bischoff was around there somewhere. Now he just needed to find him.

As he walked he spotted Jeremy Borash, who was with a camera crew. Borash spotted him and quickly rushed to him.

"Sting, Sting!" the smaller man called out as he approached, "We just saw what you did to Jeff and Karen Jarrett. Why them, Sting?"

Sting fixed him with a look. At the sight of it Jeremy swallowed hard and nervously glanced at the microphone in his hand.

"You wanna know why I did it?" Sting put his hands on his hips and looked around with a cold chuckle, "It's like I told Bischoff, JB. I'm going to keep going through every single member of Immortal until I reach him at the top. And then I'm coming for him."

"Do you think that threatening the owner of Impact will really help get Emma's job back?" Jeremy questioned him.

Sting began to smile. But the expression bordered more on the maniacal side than one of joyfulness.

"Either Bischoff hires Emma back." he stated simply, "Or his next of kin does. Either way, I'm not quitting until she's back at Impact where she belongs."

He looked over Jeremy's shoulder and his hand tightened on his bat. He watched as Eric quickly ducked into his office, closing the door.

Sting pushed his way past Jeremy and the crew and stormed over to the door. He turned the knob and grinned. It was locked. Good for him he had a key.

He took a few steps back and lifted his bat. With a grunt he drove it into the beveled window. It shattered, causing a few of the crew around him to gasp or scream.

Not wasting a moment, Sting reached through the window and unlocked the door. He stormed inside and was suddenly attacked by two huge, burly men.

"Get him!" he could hear Eric shouting orders, "Get him! Kick his ass!"

They drove their fists into him, shots coming at him from all angles. Sting grunted with the blows but didn't go down.

He managed to tighten his hold on his bat and he suddenly drove it into the gut of the larger man. As he staggered back Sting spun around, slamming the side of the bat into the other man's chest. The second man let out a groan and fell backwards.

The wrestler quickly leaned down and drove a few brutal fists into his jaw, knocking him out. Breathing hard, he turned and rammed his bat into the first man's gut again.

The man slammed back into the wall, hitting his head. His eyes rolled back and he suddenly slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Eric raced around the desk and tried to make a break for the door. But Sting was faster, catching the coward and yanking him back by the collar of his jacket. Eric stumbled and fell to his knees.

Sting used that opportunity to pounce on him. He pressed his bat against Eric's throat and yanked him tightly back against his chest.

Eric thrashed his arms as he tried desperately to escape. But it did him no good. He was caught like the rat he was.

"If. . .you.. . .don't let. . .me. . .go. . ." Bischoff tried to choke out the words, "I'll. . .fire you!"

Sting leaned in very close, his lips against the other man's ear, as he murmured in a dark voice, "You sure you want to do that, Bischoff? Think about it. If you fire me, you can't keep tabs on me. There's not telling where and when I'll strike next.

"You don't get it, do you, Eric? When a man's fired," he went on, his tone harsh and low, "Well, that gives him nothing left to lose. Do you know what's more dangerous than a man who nothing left to lose, Eric?"

Shaking, Eric's frightened gaze slowly traveled to the other man's face, "W-what?"

"_Me_ with nothing left to lose."

Eric's eyes widened as realization hit him. His mind began to race as he tried in desperation to think of a way out of his predicament.

.

.

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.

.

Emma looked up from her computer screen and grabbed her ringing phone.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Are you watching Hardcore Justice?" Tori demanded.

Emma glanced towards her open bedroom doorway, to where the television was located in the living room. She had ordered the PPV, but had been unable to bring herself to watch it.

"If you're not, put it on." Tori ordered, "Now."

She rose from her chair and walked into the living room. She grabbed the remote from off of the coffee table and turned on the TV.

And was instantly met with an image of Eric on his knees on the ground, choking and gagging. Sting was positioned behind him, his baseball bat pressed against the small man's windpipe.

Emma was so transfixed by what was going on on the TV that she accidentally hung up the phone,

"Al-all right." Eric gasped, "You had your fun. You made me scared. You win. You can let go of me now."

Sting tightened his hold on the bat, causing Eric to gasp and his eyes to bulge.

"Eric, Eric, Eric." the Insane Icon laughed darkly, "Don't you get it? This is gonna keep happening. I'm going to keep coming at you and coming at you and coming at you."

He yanked the bat back against the other man's throat and ground out through grit teeth, "And I'm gonna keep doing it until you give Emma back her job."

He yanked the bat again and again Eric began to wheeze. He frantically waved his arms and babbled something incoherent.

Sting loosened his hold and demanded, "What was that?"

"You win!" Eric gasped hoarsely, "You win! She's got her job back!"

Sting looked up at the camera and grinned, "Looks like I got what I came for."

He let the other man go, Eric falling to the floor with a grunt. Smiling evilly, the wrestler walked away.

The camera remained on Eric for a few minutes more before they sent it back to Mike Tenay and Taz.

Emma slowly sank onto her couch, her eyes widening with astonishment.

At that moment her phone rang. Absently, she picked it up and answered vacantly, "Hello?"

"Oh my God, did you see!" Brooke called loudly from the phone.

Emma could hear Tara and Tori cheering in the background.

"I-I. . .I did." she blinked, slowly coming out of her thoughts, "I just can't believe it."

"Welcome back!" the girls chorused.

"I'm stunned." Emma looked around her apartment, but didn't really see it, "I just. . .I can't believe it. What do I do?"

"What do you mean what do you do?" Tara got on the line, "You come back to the Impact Zone on Thursday and kick some Bischoff ass!"

The girls cheered again. Eventually Emma bid them goodbye and hung up the phone.

She leaned back against the couch, her hand absently going to her throat. She couldn't believe it. He had done it. He had actually done it.

She rose, her legs shaking. In fact, her entire body was shaking. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, her mind racing.

She couldn't believe it. . .

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Emma pulled up to the parking lot of the Impact Zone that very next week. As she cut the engine to her jeep she found she could only look up at the building in silent wonder.

She didn't know what to think, what to feel. In the beginning, coming there had brought her only trepidation and misery. But then things had began to change and she found that she thrived going to the IZ.

But now. . .? Now she didn't know what she felt.

She climbed out of the jeep and made her way across the parking lot and towards the building. As she slipped inside she began to make her way down the corridor.

She had just started to cross passed the cafeteria when she heard the sounds of cheering and yelling. Emma jumped and spun around, her hand flying to her chest.

Standing the cafeteria, looking at her with large grins and a few good-natured laughs, were a few of the wrestlers and crew.

"Welcome back!" they chorused.

Emma stepped up to them, surprised and touched. She began to smile as Tara and Brooke came forward to offer her a hug.

"Thank you." she told them as she pulled back.

James Storm came up next. He picked her up and gave her a squeeze, earning a squeal and a laugh from the young woman.

Chris Sabin and Alex Shelly, smiling slyly, came to either side of her. They leaned down and pressed sloppy kisses to both of her cheeks. Their antics garnered a laugh from everyone, Emma included.

Abyss made his way to the front of the crowd. He looked down at her, some unknown emotion written across his concealed face.

Emma reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. His wrapped tightly around her waist and he lifted her up into the air.

"Welcome back." he murmured in her ear.

"Thank you, Chris." she told him sincerely.

He held her for a few more moments before slowly lowering her back down to the ground. The pair stared at one another, each speaking silently. Because their bond was so strong they didn't need words to communicate how happy they were to see one another.

Emma offered him a gentle smile, her hand going up to touch his cheek. His hand touched her fleetingly before he pulled back and ducked his head.

Emma looked around, tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have such kind friends and co-workers. And to think she had hated this place when she had first come there.

Her smile gradually died on her lips as everything in her went still.

Standing at the back of the room, watching her silently, was Sting. He was in his street clothes, shades covering his eyes.

Emma slipped past the others and walked over to him. He regarded her wordlessly, watching and waiting.

She stared up at him, a myriad of emotions running through her. It was like a whirlwind racing around and around inside her body. She didn't know what to think, what to feel. She had gone through a million different scenarios, so many different things she had planned to say or do when she saw him again.

But now, standing there before him, she was at a loss.

And yet he still said nothing. Simply watched her with that guarded expression.

"I'm sorry for using your passwords." he finally told her, his words careful, "I'm sorry for not telling you what I had done. And most of all I'm sorry that Bischoff fired you because of me."

At that moment all of her pent up emotions came charging to the surface, washing over her in a great big tidal wave of repressed feelings.

Emma hauled off and sent a vicious slap to his face. Sting's head jerked slightly from the impact, his eyes narrowing behind his shades. He slowly turned back to her and she could see his jaw tightening.

She could hear a few of the wrestlers behind her gasp, even more whispering to one another, but she didn't care. At that moment she couldn't have cared less what they thought or even what Sting would do. She was that angry.

"I never want to speak to you again, _Sting_." she hissed up at him, "Just leave me alone."

And with that she turned on her heels and marched off.

The other wrestlers looked from her and back to him, unsettled by the scene. They quickly began to leave, not wanting to be around the Icon should he blow up.

But Sting remained rooted on the spot, watching after her. Everything in him was screaming for him to go after her but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Not right now while she was still fuming.

But this wasn't over, though. Not by a long shot.

Emma stalked off down the hallway. She felt the anger coursing through her and she desperately clung to it. She needed it. Without it, she was afraid she would crumble. And she couldn't do that. Especially not in front of _him_.

A few of the crew started to tell her "Welcome back" but with one look at her face they promptly turned away or made themselves scarce.

She continued on down the hallway. Slowly her steps began to diminish and her eyes began to narrow.

Eric had just emerged from his office. He turned and caught sight of her, his grin growing.

Emma's chin went up a notch and, breathing deeply, she began to make her way towards him.

"Ah, Emma!" Eric greeted her warmly, "Welcome back!"

"Thanks." she murmured as she approached him, deadpanning, "I know just how much you mean that, Eric."

"You know, I think a 'thank you' is in order." Eric smiled down at her.

"That's something you will never hear come out of my lips." Emma hissed as her anger came surging to the forefront.

But Eric didn't see seem deterred. In fact his grin widened as he murmured, "That's all right. There's something else we can do with your lips."

Emma scoffed and started to walk away when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back to him. She struggled to break free, even sending her hand flying towards his face.

But Eric was quicker, grabbing her wrist to block her slap. He pulled her closer and began to laugh callously.

"You're a real spitfire, aren't you?" he chuckled as he fought to get her to stand still, "I bet you're a tiger in bed, too."

"Let me go!" Emma scream, twisting and turning her arms in an effort to break free.

Somehow, someway, she was able to break free from his grasp. She took a few unsteady steps back, her heart racing. She was shaking. Whether it was from rage or fear or both, she didn't know.

"Never again, Eric." she hissed, "Never touch me again. I don't care if I do get fired, I will make your life a living hell if you put your hands on me again!"

"Is that a threat?" Eric smiled coldly down at her, "Are you threatening me, Emma?"

"No, I am."

The pair turned to see Sting standing a few feet away. Even with his shades on, Emma could tell he was glaring.

Sting took a step forward and replied darkly, "Touch her again and I'll rip your spine out."

Eric's eyes widened and he backed up a half step.

Pointing a shaky finger at the larger man, he stammered, "D-don't you threaten me, Sting."

Before Sting could even say a word Eric spun around and hurried off.

Emma watched after him for a moment before she realized that Sting was still there. She turned and glared up at him, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone.

He didn't.

"Emma, we need to talk." by the tone of his voice it was obvious that he wasn't going to be put off any longer.

"I don't want to hear it." Emma hissed and pushed past him, making her way down the corridor.

Sting watched after her, his temper rising. Suddenly something in him snapped and he took off after her.

She was only able to go a few feet when he caught up with her. He took hold of her arm and spun her around.

"What-" Emma started to say but Sting abruptly bent down and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. Determined, he spun around and headed back up the corridor.


	16. Part Sixteen: No Turning Back

Emma was frozen in shock for a few seconds. She couldn't believe this was happening. Again.

She eventually came out of her status and began to beat her fists against his back, yelling, "Put me down! Put me down right now!"

But Sting refused to answer her. He continued on, ignoring her protests.

As they walked they passed by a few of the wrestlers and crew. They took in the scene at first in surprise but then they started to laugh and some of them even began to cheer.

"Go for it, Stinger!" Alex Shelley called out, fist raised in the air.

Sting went a few more feet before he came to a storeroom. He opened the door and went inside, hitting the light. He slammed the door closed and turned, putting her down.

Emma took a few steps back, trying to get her bearings. The room was small with very little space. She didn't like it. She didn't like having him so close to her. It made her nervous, not to mention it was hard for her to think.

She tried to go for the door but he stepped in front of it, barring her exit.

"No." he stated evenly, "You're going to stay here and we're finally going to have this out."

"There's nothing to discuss." Emma crossed her arms and looked away, "You used me to get information on Eric and you got caught."

"I didn't. . ." Sting had to stop and mentally count to ten to regain control of his temper. This woman was infuriating!

"I didn't use you." he finally replied, his voice low.

"Yeah, right." Emma laughed, but there was no joy in the sound, "This was all just a game. All just a part of your stupid mind games. Only instead you played them on me."

"Why would I do that, Emma?" Sting's control slipped and he did begin to yell then, "What reason would I have to use you?"

"I don't know!" Emma yelled back, "Who knows what's going on in that mind of yours?"

"Give yourself a little credit." Sting scoffed, raking a hand through his hair.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Emma demanded, taking a step towards him.

Sting, too, approached her, glaring down at her, "You honestly can't see why I'd want to spend time with you? Are you really that blind?"

Emma stared up at him, equal parts confused and afraid. He didn't mean. . .Could he possibly. . .

She took a step back and shook her head, not allowing herself to even consider it. She refused to believe it. No. . .no, she had to be wrong.

Hurt welled up in her eyes, as well as coloring her voice, as she murmured, "I just don't understand why. If you wanted information why didn't you come to me? Why did you have to pretend to be my friend?"

"Because I promised you I wouldn't get you involved with another Immortal scheme!" Sting barked, "And I never pretended to be your friend, Emma!"

He turned away for a moment, fighting to control his temper.

"You told me that you trusted me." he accused her, his voice gaining volume, "Were those just empty words, Emma?"

She flinched and looked away, shaking her head. She had meant them. With all of her heart. But that was before. . .

"I meant them." she turned back to glare up at him, "I meant them when I thought you were sincere. I meant them when I thought you weren't trying to use me!"

As he wheeled back around to face her he put his hands on his hips, mainly to keep from reaching out and shaking some sense into her, "After everything that's happened between us you really think I would spend time with you just to try and get something on Bischoff?"

"Then why did you?" Emma screamed, upset.

He yanked his shades off and she could see his eyes were flashing with fury and something else just as dark. It was the something else that made her uneasy and she involuntarily backed up another step.

Sting tossed his shades over his shoulder before suddenly grabbing either side of her face and yanked her to him. He leaned down, swiftly pressing his lips to hers.

Emma gasped in surprise and his tongue surged forward, plundering her mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she found herself basically hanging in his embrace. She was stunned. Absolutely stunned. She couldn't believe he was kissing her.

Sting's hold tightened on her as his mouth worked feverishly. He had wanted to do this to her since that day in the men's room, when he had taken her hair down. Actually he was surprised he hadn't done it then. Or any of the times since.

Her lips were so soft and she tasted so good. Fresh and sweet. Innocent. He definitely should have kissed her sooner.

Emma blinked, coming back to herself. She began to push away from him and Sting reluctantly let her go.

He looked down at her, his breathing harsh. It took everything in him not to grab her and kiss her again.

Emma backed up a few steps, her mouth red from his kiss. Her eyes were slightly vacant, as though she had been stunned. Slowly she looked up at him in astonishment, her fingers going to her swollen lips.

"Why did you do that?" she asked softly, bewildered.

Sting gave her a look, still feeling a little angry as he said a little too harshly, "Why do you think? I've been wanting to do that for months."

Emma blinked, shaking her head in disbelief, "I thought-"

"You thought what?" he interrupted.

"I thought you weren't. . .you're only. . ." she shut her eyes tightly as she tried to put together some train of thought, "We're only-"

"Only what?" Sting demanded, "Friends? That was your word, sweetheart, not mine."

Emma's eyes sprung open and she once again shook her head. Fear began to well up inside her. Fear of letting her guard down only to be hurt again. She couldn't do it. Her heart couldn't take it. Not again. This was all too much. She couldn't handle it right now. She had to get out of there.

She started to push past him, to escape, but Sting took hold of her arm and turned her around.

Emma yanked free of his grasp, her eyes flashing like fire. Not thinking, she shoved at his chest.

"I can't do this!" she yelled, shoving him again, "I can't do this again! I can't risk my heart again! I won't!"

"Emma-" Sting started to take her into his arms but he was again pushed away.

"No!" Emma snapped, the precious wall she had so painstakingly fought to build finally crumbling, "I fell in love with you and-"

Her voice trailed off as she realized what she had just let slip. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes squeezed painfully shut. Why did she have to admit that?

_Idiot_! she cursed herself.

Her first instinct was the flee and she turned, once again going for the door. But Sting got to her quickly, taking her into his arms and turning her around to face him.

"Un-uh." he murmured, not letting her go now after he had heard her declaration.

Surprisingly, Emma, though still afraid, went willingly into his arms. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, feeling lost and unsure. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her after her admission. There were no more barriers standing between them now.

Sting stared down at her, some emotion he couldn't name twisting his gut. He gently lifted her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. This kiss wasn't angry like the first. Instead it was soft and gentle, meaning to comfort her.

But it did little to comfort him. Having her in his arms, kissing her, just made him want to kiss her more. Longer, deeper. He wanted more from her.

But he ruthlessly held his desires in check. There would be time for that later, he'd make sure of it. For right now he cared more about soothing her.

He ended the kiss sooner than he would have liked and slowly set her back on the ground. The moment her feet touched the floor she opened her eyes and took a shaky step back.

"What does this mean?" she asked in a whisper.

Sting couldn't help but grin down at her, "What do you think it means?"

Emma leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, trying to sort everything out. She felt Sting lean against her, planting a kiss onto her forehead. She placed her hand on his chest and sighed, admitting to herself that she was glad she had let those words slip out.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, beginning to smile softly. She couldn't believe this was happening. There was a part of her that was still afraid but to know that he really did care about her, that he had feelings for her. . .the fear didn't seem so consuming anymore.

Something clicked in her mind and she slowly began to frown.

Sting noticed her expression and he began to tense, preparing to stop her if she tried to run away again. He wasn't letting her go. Not now.

"Hey," he murmured as he brushed his hand over her cheek and tilted her face up to look at him, "What's wrong?"

Emma shook her head and sighed, "Eric's going to make our lives a living hell. He's never going to let up."

She pushed off the door and began to pace the room, her fists clenched in frustration.

"If only I could get out of that stupid contract without losing my manuscripts." she muttered, "If only there was a way."

She drew to a stop and slowly turned back to him. He could see the sadness welling up in her eyes and that unknown emotion began to once again churn in his gut.

"Maybe I should just walk away." she replied softly, "I can always write more stories."

Sting crossed over to her, taking hold of her shoulders, "You're not losing everything you worked so hard for."

"Steve-" Emma started to protest but he cut her off.

"No. I know how much your stories mean to you and I'm not going to see you lose them." he was adamant.

"But what can we do?" Emma bit her lip, "I don't know if I can take another four years as his assistant."

Sting grew silent as he began to think. Suddenly something came over him and he turned back to her with a smirk.

"What?" Emma asked, confused.

"Do you trust me?" he questioned her.

And though he was still smiling, she could tell that there was a big part of him that was also serious. He needed to know that he had her full trust.

And in that moment she finally realized that she did. Completely and with her whole heart.

She smiled up at him shyly and nodded, "With my life."

Sting grinned briefly before leaning down to kiss her once more.

As he pulled back he appeared set and determined, "Then wait till tonight."

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.

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As the sounds of 'Slay Me' filled the Impact Zone the crowd began to cheer and chant Sting's name. A few moments later the man in question made his way down to ringside. He climbed into the ring and took the mic from Christy Hemme.

Getting right to the business at hand he raised the mic and announced, "I want to see Bischoff in the middle of this ring! Right here! Right now! Come out, Bischoff!"

When no answer came Sting began to grin evilly, "Either you come out here on your own or I go back there and drag you out by the back of your scrawny neck! Come out here, Bischoff!"

Eric's music hit and a few moments later Impact owner emerged on the ramp. He looked up at Sting with hate filled eyes and cautiously began to make his way down to the ring.

As he reached the floor he snatched another mic from Christy and climbed into the ring.  
"What do you want, you freak?" he demanded, "I've got no time for your games. I've got a company to run."

"In a minute, you weasel." Sting cast his eyes to the ramp and went on, "Emma, I need you to come out here, too, please."

Emma blinked, looking at the monitor with wide eyes.

She looked at the crew with uncertainty, "What do I do?"

"Get out there." someone called out, a few of the others motioning for her to go.

Emma bit her lip, still unsure. Nervousness began to well up deep inside her.

"Emma," she could hear Sting calling from ringside, "It's all right, sweetheart. Come on out."

Emma closed her eyes and mentally built up her armor. After take a few deep breaths she opened her eyes and began to head towards the curtain.

"Wait," Tori raised a hand to stop her.

The female stagehand grinned and hit a switch on the board. Suddenly the arena filled with the sounds of Orbital's _Halcyon On and On_. Emma looked over at the crew with a surprised smile, touched. She now had her very own theme song!

Still feeling nervous, she stepped out from behind the curtain. She began to make her way down the ramp, her eyes never leaving Sting's. What did he have up his sleeve now?

She walked up the ring steps and stepped onto the apron. Sting instantly approached the ropes and held them open for her. As Emma slipped between them he took her hand and led her out to the center of the ring.

Eric glared back and forth at them, his mouth a slash against his face. Sting gently maneuvered in front of Emma, so that she wouldn't have to be close to the Impact owner.

"Get out of the ring right now." Eric ordered Emma as her music died down, his finger aimed at her face.

Emma bit her lip and looked up at Sting anxiously. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"I don't think so." the wrestler grinned down at the shorter man, "And if you keep pointing that finger at her I'm going to bite it off."

Eric's hand dropped back to his side as though it weighed a hundred pounds. He gulped, growing uneasy, as he began to realize that maybe it wasn't the best idea of attract the Insane Icon's ire.

Sting glanced over his shoulder to Emma and continued to grin, "Hi."

"Hi." Emma murmured, confused.

"You look a little nervous." the wrestler chuckled down at her and reached out to take her hand in his, "Don't be nervous."

He turned back to Eric. And though he still smiled there was now no warmth in the expression.

"No, see, Eric here is the one who should be nervous." he went on and the crowd began to cheer.

Eric took a step back in trepidation.

"If you lay a hand on me I'll have security throw you out of here." he issued an idle threat.

"Try it." Sting grinned over at him, "I'll still have time to kick the crap out of you before they make it to the ring."

Eric gulped and took another step backwards.

"I've had it with you, Bischoff." the Icon went on, "I've had it with you throwing your weight around. I've had it with you and Immortal trying to ruin everything the guys in the back have worked so hard for. I've had it, I've had it, I've had it!"

He leaned in close, serious, as he went on, "And I'm going to put a stop to it right here, right now!"

He pointed at Emma, adding, "Starting with her."

Emma blinked, confused. Starting with her?

Eric regarded him closely. And though he was deeply troubled by whatever Sting had up his sleeve, he couldn't help but smirk.

"What are you going to do about it?" he couldn't help but ask.

Sting shook his head and chuckled coldly. The guy would never learn.

"I'm challenging you." the Icon told him, "Me vs. anyone in Immortal. If I win then Emma is let out of her contract _and_ she gets to keep her manuscripts."

Emma looked up at him, stunned. She couldn't believe he would do this for her. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, the young woman touched beyond words.

Eric looked back and forth between Sting and Emma, and he began to laugh coldly.

"And why should I do that?" he questioned, "From where I stand, I'm holding all the power."

"Oh, come on, Bischoff." Sting grinned down at the smaller man, "There has to be something you want. Just name it. Come on."

Eric paused, the wheels in his mind turning. His mouth slowly formed a devious smile.

At the sight of him Emma began to grow worried. Very worried. There was no telling what that cretin had up his sleeve.

"Okay." Eric shrugged, nonchalant, "Okay, I think I might just take that deal.

"If you win, Emma is free and she gets her stories back." his smile grew tenfold, "But _when _I win you have to leave Impact. Forever."

"No." Emma instantly jumped forward, shaking her head, "No deal."

Sting took hold of her arm and gently pulled her aside.

"Hey," he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her reassuringly, "It's okay. I got this."

Emma looked passed him, to Eric, and stated, "Steve will give you his answer later on tonight."

Sting pulled back and stared down at her in confusion. What was there to think about? He continued to look at her in bewilderment as she took his hand and led him from the ring.

They had made it halfway up the ramp when Eric called after them, "Fine, I'll give you till the end of the night to think it over. Oh, and Emma? Go clean the men's bathroom. Bully Ray was just in there and it needs it."

Eyes narrowed, Sting started to go for the Impact owner. But Emma kept a hold of his hand and tried to tug him towards the back. He eventually allowed her to and the pair disappeared behind the curtain.

As soon as they were backstage he took the lead and led her towards a backroom where they could talk. Once they were out of ear shot he released her hand and turned to face her, hands lifted up at his sides.

"What was that about?" he asked, confused, "You don't think I can do this?"

Emma looked up at him with complete love and trust and shook her head, "That's not it at all. I believe in you. It's Eric I don't trust."

"I can handle Bischoff." Sting tried to reassure her.

But Emma was still full of doubt. She turned away from him and sighed, hugging herself. She couldn't let him do this. It was too much. There was too much at stake.

"You can't do this." she turned back to him, determined, "You cannot risk your career for me. I won't let you."

She took his hand in both of hers and offered what she hopped was an encouraging smile, "Don't worry about me, okay? You need to be here to continue the fight."

She grew serious, adding, "If we lost you what would happen to Impact? What would happen to all the people in the back? They need you."

She shrugged, trying to placate him, "It's just four more years. They'll fly by in no time. And then I'll be free of Bischoff and I can have my stories back."

Sting looked down at her, that unknown something once again welling up inside of him. Here she was, trying to look so brave. But he knew her. He could see that below the surface she was frightened.

He began to shake his head, "It's not working, M&M. I can see right through you."

Emma started to protest but he cut her off, "I've watched you here day after day. I can see what a toll this is taking on you."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart, "I have a chance to end it and I'm taking it. This is my chance to change things for the better."

Emma looked at him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

He began to grin. Leaning over he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He felt his spirits sore when she readily returned it. Oh yeah, she was definitely starting to come out of her shell.

He pulled back and continued to smirk, "Just wait and see."

Emma found she could only look up at him questioningly. She had no doubt that he had something planned. And she had complete faith that whatever it was, it was sure to be a good one. But she also knew Bischoff. And she knew that he would do whatever it took the win.

Sting saw that she still wasn't completely convinced so he reached out and gently cupped her cheek. His smile grew as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, her hand going over his.

He wanted to take her away from there. Now that there were no longer any barriers between them he wanted to take her someplace they could be alone. He wanted to be able to do with her all the things he had dreamed about, fantasies about, doing.

He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that it was like a never ending ache, deep in his gut.

"Trust me." he murmured down at her, meaning more than just to trust him about his plan.

Eventually she opened her eyes and pulled away, sighing, "All right. I'll wait and see what you have up your sleeve."

She began to frown, her nose starting to crinkle as she added, "I better go clean the restroom."

"I'll clean it." Sting muttered darkly, "I'll clean it with Bischoff's scrawny head."

Emma offered him a reassuring smile and led the way out of the room.

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As the night began to wind down the Impact Zone filled with the sounds of Eric Bischoff's music. It wasn't long before he began to make his way down to ringside, a bright grin on his lips.

He was so sure, so confident, that Sting would renege on his earlier challenge. After all, he really was nothing more than a coward. The guy walked around in makeup and only showed up when the lights were out, for God's sake! What else could he be but a coward?

The Impact owner climbed into the ring and raised the mic to his lips, "Times up, Stinger! Come on out and give me your answer. If you're not afraid."

'Slay Me' instantly started up, Sting and Emma making their way down the ramp. They were holding hands, the pair a united front. Sting looked up at Eric and smirked but Emma remained uncertain and even a little fearful.

Eric looked at them, taking special note of their clasped hands, and he felt a sneer begin to twist his lips. It was sickening. He couldn't understand it. Why would she want that freak when she could have _him_? He just didn't get it.

The pair stepped into the ring, Sting reaching out and taking the microphone Christy offered him.

"So what's it going to be?" Eric asked, once again all smiles, "Do you accept my stakes or are you going to turn around and run away with your tail between your legs? Like the coward we all know you are."

"Wow." Sting grinned at the other man, "_I'm_ a coward. Huh, that's definitely one to chew on."

"Come on, Sting." Bischoff tried to hurry him along, "I don't have all night. What's it gonna be?"

"Well, you know, Eric," Sting rubbed his ear, pondering something, "You gave me all night to think. And I have been thinking."

He began to grin, "I've been thinking that maybe we should raise the stakes."

The crowd began to cheer while Emma looked up at Sting in confusion. Raise the stakes?

Eric, too, looked bewildered and just a little bit nervous.

"That is," Sting went on, "If you're not too afraid."

Bischoff began to laugh, "Ooh, I'm shaking. What stakes are you talking about?"

"You win, I'm out of here." Sting explained, "I win, Emma and her manuscripts are free and clear.

"_And_," his voice grew exaggerated, as well as his movements, "The company goes back into the rightful hands of Dixie Carter. Free and clear."

The crowd's cheering grew and even Emma had to give pause, impressed. She slowly began to smile.

Eric looked up at the wrestler with a frown, concern written across his face. That was not a part of the deal.

As the crowd began to chant "TNA! TNA!" Sting waved them on, his laughing eyes never leaving the Impact owner's face. He could see Eric was sweating bullets and he loved every minute of it.

Eric looked back and forth between Sting and Emma and he felt anger begin to rise up in his gut. They both looked so happy, so full of themselves. They thought they had him over a barrel but they didn't know who they were dealing with.

He slowly began to smirk, "If you're raising the stakes, then I want to raise some, as well."

"Go ahead." Sting waved him on, unafraid.

"_When_ Immortal wins, not only are you out." Eric's eyes slowly traveled to Emma and he began to leer, "But I get Emma for _another_ five years _and_ she loses the rights to her manuscripts."

At his words Sting began to falter. He licked his lips, looking over at Emma with uncertainty. It was one thing to risk himself. He could handle it. But to risk her, as well? He didn't know if he could do it. The stakes were getting to be too high.

Emma stared up at him, taking note of his trepidation. She reached out and took one of his hands in both of hers. With trust shining in her eyes, she caught his eye and offered him a tender smile.

Sting looked down at her, studying her. She seemed to have faith in him. And if she could have faith in him, then he should be able to have faith in himself.

"All right." he turned back to Eric with a nod, "You're on!"

The crowd went nuts and Bischoff's grin grew.

"So who's it gonna be?" Sting wanted to know, "Which member of Immortal are you going to put up? Come on, Bischoff, I've beaten them all. Go ahead and throw any of them at me."

"Sorry, Stinger, but all in due time." Eric continued to grin at him, "You'll just have to wait and see."

And with that, he left the ring and headed back up the ramp. He came to the top of it before turning back around.

Lifting the mic back to his lips, he added mysteriously, "But don't worry. You'll find out soon enough."

Emma looked at him in concern. What did he mean by that?

She glanced over at Sting, only to discover that he didn't appear deterred at all.

"Ooh." he wiggled his fingers in mock fear.

He caught sight of Emma's expression and reached out, taking her hand.

"It'll be okay." he assured her, giving her a wink.

Emma nodded, but deep down inside she didn't feel entirely sure.

They continued to hold hands as they left the ring and went into the back. As they slipped passed the curtain they discovered that Eric was still there, waiting for them.

His eyes landed on Emma and his grin grew, "I just wanted to tell you to go ahead and take the rest of the night off."

Emma's eyes narrowed as she regarded her boss with suspicion.

"What's your game, Bischoff?" Sting demanded and Eric raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Nothing." Eric told him, still grinning, "Nothing at all. Have a good night, you two."

And with that he turned and casually walked away.

The pair stared after him, irritated.

"Come on." Sting murmured as he took Emma's hand and led her out of the building.

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After leaving the IZ the pair found themselves together, alone, on the beach.

Sitting on a blanket, Emma leaning back against Sting, they looked out over the dark ocean. She closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.

Something clicked in her mind and her eyes slowly opened, the young woman frowning.

"I'm sorry." she replied suddenly.

Sting looked down at her, eyes narrowed in confusion, "For what?"

"For slapping you." Emma bit her lip, ashamed, "I shouldn't have and I'm sorry."

"I lost my temper and I took it too far." she glanced up at him and added sheepishly, "I've never even hit anyone before."

Sting began to grin as he teased, "Aw, and you let me be the first. Thanks, sweetheart!"

Emma turned away and scoffed, unable to keep from chuckling. She closed her eyes and sighed as she felt him take hold of her once more.

"Anyway, I had it coming." he moved his jaw from side-to-side and gingerly touched it, "But if it makes you feel any better, you have a heck of a right."

"Oh stop." Emma leaned back against him, bumping him with her back.

Sting began to smirk as his arms tightened deliciously tight around her.

The pair grew silent as they looked out at the darkened ocean, each alone with their thoughts. They remained that way for several minutes.

"Why didn't you see that I had feeling for you?" he suddenly questioned her.

He began to smirk as he added teasingly, "I thought I made it pretty clear, myself."

Emma glanced down at her lap and shrugged, ":I don't know. Truthfully, I don't think I wanted to see it."

"Why?" Sting asked her, the wrestler confused.

Emma glanced up at him and shrugged, instantly feeling self-conscious, "I don't know. I mean, you're. .. well, you. And I'm just this plain Jane. I don't know, I didn't think you could be interested in someone like me."

She bit her lip and glanced up only to find that he was watching her, his expression very serious. At the sight of it she offered another shrug by way of explanation.

Without saying a word he reached over and pressed his lips to hers in a long, thorough kiss. Emma raised her hand up to cup his cheek, readily returning the embrace.

When they eventually pulled back she was breathless.

"There's nothing plain about you, Emma." he told her adamantly, "If you could see what I see, if you could know what I know about you, you'd know why I want to be with you. And as for me being me, sweetheart, I'm just some guy-"

"Oh, that's definitely not true." Emma interjected, "Believe me, Steve, you've never been just _some guy_."

Sting found himself smiling, touched by his words, "So you kind of like me, huh?"

"Yep." Emma gave him a shy smile, "So you kind of like me, too, huh?"

"Oh yeah." Sting offered her another kiss before the pair once again settled back to watching the ocean.

He unexpectedly brushed his lips across her temple, "Are you cold?"

"Hmm-mm." Emma shook her head, thoughtful.

Sting kissed her forehead, "What are you thinking about now?"  
"You know." Emma murmured, looking at him sideways.

She turned around in his arms, looking up at him as she shook her head, "I can't believe you're risking so much. Too much."

"You're worth it. Besides, I'm not just doing this for you." he added with a grin, "Though you are the main reason. I'm doing this for Impact, too. For Dixie and the wrestlers in the back."

Emma sighed, thoughtful, "I just wish we knew who Eric was going to have represent Immortal."

"It doesn't matter." Sting told her, "I've been through them all."

"I wish you would take this a little more seriously." Emma interjected.

Suddenly Sting had her down on the sand, laying above her. He began to trace her forehead and cheek, something poignant flashing in his eyes.

"I am serious." he murmured as he stared deeply into her eyes, "Very serious."

He leaned down and began to kiss her slowly. Emma returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her.

She still couldn't believe they were there. That this was really happening. After so many ups and downs, so many false starts. . .they were finally together. Truly together.

As the kiss ended Sting pulled back and stared down at her. He was surprised to see her grinning. Soon she began to laugh.

"Gee, thanks, M&M." he looked away and huffed, "That's not exactly the sort of thing a guy wants to hear after he's kissed a woman."

"No, it's not that." Emma smiled up at him, "It's just that. . .this was not how I imagined the night ending when I walked into the IZ tonight."

She glanced over at the ocean and chuckled, "And I definitely didn't see this coming a few months ago when you were terrorizing me."

At her words Sting's own smile disappeared. He glanced at the sand beneath her in shame before turning back to her, apologizing, "I'm sorry for that, Emma. I'm sorry for scaring you. What I did to you that night, carrying you off and locking you in the storage room, threatening you with that bat, there's no excuse for it."

"Oh!" Emma shook her head, her eyes wide, "Steve, no. No, I was just teasing. You didn't-I didn't mean actually terrorizing me. I'm sorry. It was a stupid joke. A bad choice of words. No, believe me, I understand why you did what you did. You thought I was helping Eric and Immortal."

Sting shook his head, "I should have known. Right from the start I knew you had integrity. I should have continued to believe in you."

Emma smiled gently, "And I should have believed in you. I know what a good man you really are. I should have trusted in that."

She looked out over the ocean and shrugged, wanting to put everything bad behind them, "But that doesn't matter now. We're here. We're together. That's all that matters."

He slowly began to smile, as well. His smile soon faded, though, as he leaned down and captured her lips with his own. The kiss deepened, lips parting and tongues coming into play. His hands traveled down to her hips and he took hold of them, molding her more fully against him.

Emma whimpered at the suddenly closeness and her heart began to speed up. She shifted beneath him, suddenly feeling very anxious. She wanted to feel him closer, and yet the idea of it also frightened her.

She suddenly broke the kiss, pulling back. She was breathing heavily and Sting could feel her shaking.

He gently ran his hand through her hair and asked, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

She couldn't meet his gaze though. She felt too. . .what? Embarrassed? Ashamed? She didn't quite know. All she knew was that she wasn't ready to look at him.

His hand slipped to her chin and he lifted it so that she was forced to look into his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked against, his thumb brushing against her cheek, "Are you scared of me?"

Emma shook her head instantly, "No. No, it's not that."

"So what it is?" he was being so considerate and patient that it almost made her want to cry.

How could she tell him that she was afraid of what she was feeling and thinking? He brought out thoughts and emotions that she had never had before. That she didn't even know existed.

"I. . ." she looked away for a moment, mentally building up her courage.

At last she dared to look at him and she admitted softly, hesitantly, "I want you."

Sting found himself grinning at that. He could have thought of worse things to hear.

"I want you, too." he told her as his hand traveled from her cheek to rest at the base of her throat, "I have for a long time."

It was all he could do to keep his hand in place. He wanted to wander, to touch her all over. To feel her against him. After the small taste he had just received he knew he wanted more.

"I want that, too." Emma assured him, still tentative, "But I. . .I'm not. . ."

She hedged and glanced away, confessing softly, "I'm not ready yet. I'm sorry."

When he said nothing she dared to peek over at him. He was looking down at her, understanding and with a tender smile on his lips.

He could see just how nervous she was and more than anything, even more than his own desires, he wanted to make her feel safe and secure.

"It's all right." he told her, giving her an encouraging smile, "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for."

He brushed his thumb across her cheek as he added, "We can wait. We have plenty of time."

Emma found herself smiling up at him, reassured by his words.

Sting slowly sat up and settled back. He may have said it, heck he may have even thought it, but he didn't want to push the boundaries of his control. Because, where she was concerned, he knew they couldn't but pushed much farther.

Emma, too, returned to a sitting position. She looked out over the night, watching as the reflection of the moon glistened on the ocean. Listened to the sounds of the waves lapping at the shore.

She felt his hands suddenly envelope hers and she turned to look at him. The pair shared a long stead gaze, followed by a deep smile.

They truly were together for the first time. And it felt right.


	17. Part Seventeen: Taking Chances

Sting stuffed his gear into his bag and, slinging the bag over his shoulder, made his way out into the hallway and through the Impact Zone.

He had just finished a workout in the ring and he was still buzzing. He always felt at his best when he was in the ring.

As he rounded a corner he drew to a stop, a smile coming over him. Correction, he almost always felt at his best when he was in the ring.

Emma was standing up ahead, talking to a production member. Whatever it was she was talking about seemed to excite her. Her eyes were lit up and she was moving her hands around animatedly.

"What are you doing here?" Sting asked as he approached her.

Emma looked up and began to smile, happy to see him. She thanked the crew member and walked over to him, her smile growing.

"I could ask you the same thing." she said as she stepped up to him, "I didn't expect to see you here in the middle of a Saturday afternoon."

"Just putting in a little ring work." Sting told her and, unable to help himself, reached over to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Now that everything was out in the open he couldn't stop himself from touching her. He couldn't help himself. It was like an itch that he couldn't scratch.

Emma closed her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch. It was an involuntary reaction. One that she enjoyed fully.

She opened her eyes and offered him a sweet smile, "Well if you're done here we could go get something to eat."

"You finished up with whatever your doing?" Sting inquired and Emma nodded.

He slipped an arm around her shoulders, "Well let's go. What do you feel like?"

"Anything sounds good." Emma assured him and Sting grinned, "I think I can swing 'anything'."

The pair began to make their way through the building when Tori can running up, a small package in her hands.

"Hey." she greeted the pair, handing Sting the package, "I'm glad I caught you before you left. This was left up at the front office for you."

She looked back and forth between the two, offering a secret smile, "Have fun."

Emma giggled and waved to her friend as Tori turned and walked away. She turned back to find Sting looking down at the package in curiosity.

"Who's it from?' she asked.

"Don't know." Sting murmured thoughtfully as he looked the passel over, "There's no return address on it."

"Oooh." Emma teased, bumping his arm, "Somebody's got a secret admirer."

He flashed her a smirk before turning his attention back to the package. He ripped it open, balling up the paper and tossing it over his shoulder without a backwards glance.

Emma snickered and shook her head. She knelt down and retrieved it, tossing it into a nearby wastebasket. As she turned back to him she paused, bewildered.

Sting hand opened the package and was holding something in his hands. She couldn't quite make it out, but by the looks of it it appeared to be a series of thick, red leather straps, lined in black.

"What is that?" Emma questioned, confused.

Sting looked over at her, lips pursed in thought. He raised the item and Emma realized it was a mask of some kind.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked her.

"It looks like a mask." Emma shrugged.

"Mmm-hmm." Sting arched an eyebrow from behind his shades, "It's Vader's mask."

Emma returned to it, studying it. Suddenly her eyes lit up as realization came over her. He was right!

"Do you think that's who Eric was referring to?" she inquired.

"Who knows." Sting shrugged, "I wouldn't put it passed him."

Emma's eyes traveled back to the mask, worry coming over her. She had seen a few of Sting's matches against Vader online a few years ago. She could still remember how brutal some of them had been.

Sting noticed her look and smiled, giving her hair a teasing tug, "Hey, I'll be fine, okay. Don't worry."

Emma offered him a small smile, but she couldn't shake her concern.

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They walked through the park a good thirty minutes later, Sting holding a paper bag. They eventually came to a stop under a tree, wrestler and writer sitting down. Sting opened the bag and pulled out a hotdog, passing it to her. Emma took it, practically salivating. Within moments she had it unwrapped and was taking a healthy bite from it.

Sting couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle, "Man, are you a cheap date."

Emma simply winked at him before taking another bite from the dog.

Sting leaned back against the tree, also biting into his hotdog. He looked out over the lake and mused lightly, "If I had known that, maybe I wouldn't have sprung for that fancy dinner all those months ago."

Emma looked over at him, eyebrow arched, "So that _was _a date, huh?"

"You didn't get that?" Sting laughed.

"No!" Emma swatted at him playfully, "How was I supposed to know? Are you forgetting I thought you were a little. . .nutty, to say the least. I thought you just trying to. . ."

She paused, thoughtful, "Okay, I don't know what you were just trying to do. But I definitely didn't think it was a date."

"Emma, I'm hurt." Sting wiped imaginary tears from his eyes, "Here I went out of my way to try and impress you and that's what you think of our first date?"

Emma rolled her eyes and went back to her hotdog. She knew there was no way she could win this one.

Her mind began to drift, back to the mask. At the thought of it she started to frown.

"Hey," Sting's sharp eyes caught her change of expression, "You okay?"

She turned to him and shook her head, lowering the dog, "I just can't believe Eric would bring in Vader."

"Are you honestly surprised?" Sting arched an eyebrow, "I wouldn't put anything past Bischoff. He'll do whatever he can to win."

"No, I'm not surprised." Emma added thoughtfully, "But I am surprised he decided to give you a head's up. Don't you think that's a little too sporting of him?"

"No, I agree." Sting nodded, "It's definitely not Bischoff's style. But knowing him, he's got something up his sleeve."

"Yeah." Emma agreed, her mind drifting back to Sting's past matches with the behemoth wrestler.

She could still see him taking the hits from Vader and it was all she could do to keep from flinching.

Sting, sensing her change in mood, leaned forward and cupped her cheek.

She slowly turned to him and he offered her a warm smile, "Hey, where did you go?"

Emma shook her head, "Nowhere. I was just thinking."

"Em," he offered her a grin, "It's going to be all right."

"I know." she sighed and looked out over the lake, "But I can't help but be a little fri-worried."

She quickly turned back to him and replied adamantly, "I have faith in you. I do. But I can't help how I feel."

Sting reached over and took hold of her chin. Drawling her close, he pressed a kiss to her lips.

As he pulled back, he regarded her tenderly, "I don't want you to think you ever have to hide your feelings from me. Okay? If you feel scared, tell me. I want to know."

"I feel scared." Emma admitted, "I've seen the matches between you two. I've seen the punishment you've taken at his hands."

"Have you seen the punishment he's taken at _my _hands?" Sting asked her pointedly.

Emma paused and looked down. He had a point, she knew. But it didn't ease her fears.

"I'm not going into this feeling smug, Emma," he told her, adding with conviction, "But I also can't go into it afraid, either. I just know that I have to go into this match and do whatever I can, fight as hard as I can, to win. That's all I can do."

"You're a brave man, Steve Borden." Emma found herself smiling at him.

"Yeah, well. . ." Sting puffed out his chest and sighed.

Emma laughed and, balling up the wrapper of her hotdog, tossed it at him.

He batted it away easily and it ended up ricocheting off of her forehead. She blinked, stunned, before she started to giggle. That got Sting going and soon they were doubled over in laughter.

As their laughter faded they looked over at one another. Soon their smiles began to disappear. Emma, shy, reached over and tentatively touched his cheek. Sting offered her a smirk, planting a kiss into her palm.

Her fingertips lightly traveled lower, brushing against his soul patch. She had always wanted to touch it and was still surprised that she could now.

Sting leaned down, planting kisses to her fingers. He started to grin as she began to blush. Her innocence never failed to charm him.

Emma pulled back and smiled in wonder, "I still can't believe that we're together."

She looked way and sighed, "I was so naïve and foolish. I should have seen what was in front of my eyes."

Sting caught her eye and shrugged, "Don't feel so bad. I wasn't entirely sure you had feelings for me, either."

He reached out and tapped her chin, teasing, "You played it too close to the hip, young lady."

Emma grinned, grabbing his finger and holding it. Her smile began to fade as something poignant came to her eyes.

"Thank you for not giving up on me." she told him softly.

"I couldn't." Sting replied, also serious, "I care about you too much."

Emma leaned over and the pair shared a long, sweet kiss.

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It was a few days later, at the next Impact, when Sting received his second package. He was skulking about the backstage area, keeping tabs on Bischoff and the rest of his crones.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the Impact owner bark orders to the crew, sending them scattering. It was all he could do not to go over there and tear the little dictator limb from limb.

Emma stepped up to Eric at that moment, coffee in hand. She presented it to him with a frown and turned to walk away. Eric called back to her and Sting watched her sigh and return to his side.

Eric said something that caused Emma's frown to deepen and her eyes to constrict. Laughing, Bischoff and the rest of his crones headed off down the hallway.

Head bowed, Emma turned and stormed off in the other direction. She had just passed a side hallway when Sting suddenly appeared, grabbing her about the waist and yanking her into the darkness.

She let out a gasp before she was turned around and came face-to-face with the Icon.

"H." he grinned down at her, looking quite pleased with his ambush.

Emma, though still a little perturbed by his stunt, slipped her arms around his neck and smirked at him, "Hi, yourself. What's the big idea of sneaking up on me like that?"

He feinted hurt, "I thought you liked it when I snuck up on you."

"Oh sure." Emma agreed jokingly, "It's the highlight of my day."

Sting grinned and leaned in closer, "Kiss me."

But Emma pulled back, her nose crinkling, "No. You'll get face paint all over me."

Sting began to pout and Emma found she couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, all right." she gave him a quick smooch and jumped to the ground.

"So what did Bischoff want?" Sting asked as they stepped out of the side entranceway.

"Nothing." Emma shook her head, "Just Eric being Eric. Nothing I can't handle."

Sting was still curious but he didn't pry. He knew that if it was important enough, she would tell him.

They made their way through the hallway and eventually came to his dressing room. He opened the door for Emma and the pair stepped inside.

There, sitting on his chair, was another package. This one was slightly larger than the first.

"Well, I know Vader's not in there." Sting gave her a smirk before walking over to it.

He got to one knee and ripped it open, peering inside. He suddenly began to frown.

"Steve?" Emma stepped up to him, curious.

Sting pulled out a small cactus and a tire jack.

Emma looked at them in surprise, "Cactus Jack?"

"Looks like." Sting murmured as he rose to his feet, the wrestler still staring at the items.

Sighing, he set them on a nearby table and ran his hands through his hair. Slowly he began to chuckle. Leave it to old Bischoff to try and keep him on his toes.

"Who's next, Sid Vicious?" Emma mused wryly.

"I'm kinda hoping for Abdullah the Butcher, myself." Sting grinned at her.

Emma grinned up at him for a moment before questioning, "Do you think Mick Foley will come back?"

"I don't know." Sting told her with a shrug, "When he left we were on good terms. Of course, that was years ago. Who knows now."

Emma's eyes returned to the items and she bit her lip.

"Come on." Sting led the way out of the dressing room and back down the hall.

As the pair made their way Sting slowly came to a stop. Emma looked up at him before following his gaze. She began to frown.

Eric and the rest of Immortal were standing up ahead. The Impact owner caught sight of them and his Cheshire grin eased across his face.

"So I got your little present." Sting grinned as they approached, "Well, _presents._"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Eric shrugged, trying to appear innocent but not quite pulling it off.

"Cut the act, Bischoff." Sting laughed coldly, "You're not that good of a liar."

"This man is not a liar." Bully Ray interjected, pointing at Eric, "And we don't know nothing' about any gifts you got."

"Besides," Eric went on, "I think you have more important things to worry about."

"Like what?" Sting demanded.

"Like the fact that you're going to face Scott Steiner next." Eric announced merrily.

Scott puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. Bully Ray laughed and slapped the massive wrestler's upper arm.

"You're in trouble now, Sting." he grinned.

Emma looked up at Sting. He was simply smiling, clearly unconcerned by the announcement.

Laughing, Immortal turned and walked off.

"Be careful." Emma told Sting.

"Where's the fun in that, Emma?" Sting asked with a smirk.

"Of course," Emma quipped, "What was I thinking?"

She shook her head and sighed, "I better get back to the production office and give them Eric's notes for the rest of the show."

She turned and started to walk off when she felt him place his hand on her shoulder to halt her. She looked back up to find him watching her, his expression soft.

Without a word he cupped her face and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"What was that for?" she asked as they pulled back.

"For your concern." he added with a leer, "And because I just like kissing you."

"Well I suppose I can't object to that." Emma giggled.

"Nope." Sting shook his head, "You honestly can't."

They parted ways, Sting heading off to the ring. Emma made her way to the production office, handing Eric's notes to the director. As she looked up at the monitor she discovered that Steiner, too, had entered the ring and the match was about to start.

Christy began to make the introductions but Steiner jumped the gun and attacked Sting, catching him off guard.

Emma's hands flew to her chest as she watched the action unfold.

It wasn't long until Sting was able to fight back from the cheap shot and soon the men began to trade blows back and forth.

Eventually Steiner managed to get Sting back into a corner. After hammering him with a few blows he turned and whipped the Icon into the opposite corner.

He ran after him to follow it up but, at the last second, Sting raised his leg and Steiner ran right into his boot. Down the larger man went with a tremendous 'thud'.

Sting leaned forward, arm hanging over the top rope, as he tried to catch his breath. Soon they were both righted and came back together in the center of the ring. Steiner threw a massive punch but the Insane Icon was able to block it and threw one of his own, catching the other wrestler in the head. He followed it up with another blow. And then a chop, driving Steiner back.

The larger man faltered a half step, but came barreling forward again. Sting was ready for him and delivered a vicious clothesline, knocking the other man to the ground.

But Steiner came back up again. And again he was clotheslined to the ground. He came up a last time and Sting issued a kick to his gut. As Steiner hunched over Sting ran back to the ropes and took off. He grabbed the back of his head and jumping up into the air, slammed the bigger man face first to the canvas.

"Yes!" Emma couldn't help but cheer, her arms raised.

She noticed the other members of the production crew were watching her and she slowly lowered her arms, her face turning red with embarrassment.

She turned back to see Sting going for the pin. The ref was only able to make a two count when suddenly Steiner kicked out.

He staggered to his feet and over to a corner. Sting took notice and backed up into the opposite corner. He then took off running, ready to hit the bigger man with a Stinger Splash.

He was almost to him when suddenly Steiner caught him, turned, and face planting him to the mat. He quickly rolled on top of him for the pin. He, too, only received a two count when Sting raised his arm and shoulder off of the mat.

"Oh come on!" Steiner roared in frustration, banging the palms of his hands onto the canvas.

He surged to his feet and paced about the ring, waving his arms in an almost 'safe' motion. He came to the back of Sting and, as the Icon was getting to his knees, grabbed a hold of his arms and tried to put him in the Steinerecliner.

Sting quickly fought through the hold, knocking the other man to the ground. He quickly climbed to his feet and turned Steiner around, grabbing hold of his legs.

In seconds Sting had him in the Scorpion Death Lock and sat down. Steiner let out a groan and the ref quickly asked him if he wanted to submit. Steiner shook his head, but by the painful look written across his face it was clear that he wanted to tap out.

Sting looked out over the crowd, grinning. He knew it was just a matter of time. He had a perfect position in the ring. There was no choice but for Steiner to tap.

But somehow, some way, Steiner was able to use those massive arms of his to maneuver towards the ropes. Somehow, he was able to grab them and Sting had no choice but to break the hold.

Sting stood up and walked away, willing his own frustration not to come to light. He turned and began to head back to the upright Steiner. He was just about to reach him when the bigger man suddenly poked him in the eye.

Holding a hand to his face Sting backed up a few steps and blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. Steiner was on him in an instant, giving him a brutal Suplex. It seemed to take as much energy out of him as it did Sting, because now both men were laying flat on their back in the middle of the ring. The ref had no choice but to start a ten count.

The crowd began to clap and chant, "Let's go, Sting! Let's go, Sting!"

Both men rolled onto their knees and slowly, shakily, climbed to their feet.

Steiner grabbed a hold of Sting and started to whip him into the corner. But, at that last second, the Icon reversed it and it was Steiner shooting toward the turnbuckle. Sting followed after him and drove a nasty kick into the small of the other man's back.

The Insane Icon then slipped an arm around his neck and hit the Scorpion Death Drop. Sting was on him in moments for the pin and the ref hit the One! Two! Three!

The Icon had won!

As the bell sounded and the crowd began to scream in happiness Sting sat up and looked around, grinning.

Still smirking at the crowd he reached into his boot and suddenly pulled out a tube of red face paint. He rose to his feet and began to stalk towards the fallen man. As he did so he unscrewed the cap on the paint, tossing it onto Steiner's chest with a maniacal grin.

He was just about to spread the face paint onto the fallen Steiner when, unexpectedly, Bully Ray came charging to the ring.

Sting noticed, though, and as the man tried to attack him from behind Sting gave him a clothesline. Bully was right back up again and he took off for him again. And again he was driven to the ground.

Bully crawled over to the nearest corner and staggered to his feet. As he turned around his eyes widened in alarm as Sting took off from the opposite corner and hit him with a Stinger Splash.

Bully sank to his knees and raised his hands in the air, begging the Icon to leave him alone.

Sting only grinned and placed a healthy dose of face paint into the palm of his hand. He then ground his palm into Bully's face, instantly turning him a hilarious shade of red.

Bully managed to slip out of the ring, as did Steiner, neither man wanting to deal with the Insane Icon any longer.

As they scurried back up the ramp a man in a brown carrier's uniform passed by them and began to make his way to ringside. In his hand was a small package.

Sting turned around, hands on his hips. He watched with curiosity as the man entered the ring and handed him the parcel.

"You know who sent this?" he asked the smaller man.

The messenger shook his head and shrugged, "No. Sorry."

As he walked out Sting opened the package. His eyes narrowed as he pulled out a small Japanese flag and a tube of black face paint.

Shaking his head, he tossed the items back into the package and exited the ring.

As he walked backstage he found Emma waiting for him. Her eyes were narrowed in confusion.

"What does that mean?" she asked as he approached.

"Muta." was the only thing Sting would say.

Emma glanced at the package, her eyes wide. She let out a sigh, "I swear, if Steven Regal is next. . ."

Sting let out a laugh and clasped his hand on the back of her neck, leading her down the hall.

"Come on." he told her, "Let's get out of here."

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Emma looked down at her fish, poking it with her fork.

She and Sting were seated in his kitchen. Bongo was happily gnawing on a bone a few feet away and Venom was curled up on one of the island chairs, sound asleep.

"You don't like the fish?" Sting asked.

"No, it's wonderful." Emma looked up and offered him a smile, "Thank you. I'm just tired, I suppose."

"Tired?" Sting arched an eyebrow, asking pointedly, "Or worried?"

"A little of both, I guess." Emma stated with a sheepish smile.

"It'll be all right." Sting tried to reassure her, but he wasn't sure he could convince her.

They were silent for several moments, eating quietly.

"You know," Emma began to ponder as she took a bite of her fish, "I could slip into Eric's office early tomorrow and jump on his computer. It would probably take a little digging, but I might be able to find something."

Sting paused and looked at her, surprised at her suggestion.

"I thought you wanted to stay out of Immortal's business?" he questioned her.

"Yeah, well maybe it's time I got into Immortal's business." Emma set her fork down and leaned back in her seat, "I mean here you are, doing everything you can to help me, and what am I doing? Sitting back and letting you carry the load."

"Emma, you don't have much of a choice." Sting reminded her, "One slip up and Bischoff will fire you. You can't take the chance."

"But that's not fair to you." Emma argued, "You're taking chances. I should, too."

Sting set down his own fork and studied her silently. After awhile Emma adverted her eyes, self-conscious over his unwavering gaze.

At last she couldn't take it anymore and she looked up at him, demanding, "What?"

Sting leaned forward, hands clasped and chin resting on his knuckles. He shook his head, "You think you don't take chances, Emma? You don't think you were taking chances when you went into that ring and took a baseball bat to the back to protect me? You don't think you're taking chances by being with me right now, knowing what Bischoff could do to you?"

Emma bit her lip, contemplating his words.

"You took a chance by traveling across the country to come work for that piece of garbage in a strange city with no help and no support." Sting's voice gained in volume as he pointed out the window.

He ran his hands through his hair and began to laugh humorlessly, "And you talk about not carrying the load? Are you kidding me?"

He leaned forward, suddenly very serious, "I've seen the look in your eyes every time I've opened one of those packages. I know what you're thinking about. You're frightened for me. But you don't say anything because you don't want to worry me. That's not carrying a load?"

Emma bowed her head, glancing down at her dinner. She shrugged and murmured, "I never thought of it like that."

"Yeah, well maybe you should." he stated evenly, causing her to look back up at him, "Just because you're not standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me, swinging a baseball bat, doesn't mean that you're not doing your part."

It was Emma's turn to study him silently.

"You know," she eventually stated, "You should really consider being a motivational speaker."

And she flashed him a bright smile.

Sting bowed his head and chuckled. As he looked back up he reached out and took her hand in his. Emma's smile faded as her eyes traveled to their joined hands.

"I'm doing what I need to do," Sting told her quietly, "To protect Impact. And you. Just like you're doing what you need to do. And that's all there is to it."

He lifted her hand and gave it a kiss.

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Emma made her way through the Impact Zone the next day, clipboard clasped to her chest. She was helping get the final preparations underway for the house show coming up in just a few hours.

As she slipped into Eric's office she walked over and picked up the list of instructions for the crew, which were sitting on the Impact owner's desk.

She was just about to leave when she caught sight of a package sitting on the nearby conference table. It was of medium height, brown box.

Emma's eyes narrowed as she slowly made her way over to it, peering at the top of it. Those same eyes widened as she realized the package was addressed to her.

Emma bit her lip, unsure of what to do. The package looked like all the ones that had been sent to Sting. So why was it now that she was getting one?

She glanced towards the door, debating on what she should do. For a few minutes she contemplated on whether or not she should go get Sting. Regardless of what was inside, she was sure he would want to know.

At last she sighed and, throwing caution to the wind, went for it. She untied the box and removed the lid.

And instantly a five foot long python came slithering out of the box.

She stood stunned for half a second before letting out an ear piercing shriek. . .


	18. Part Eighteen: Revelations

Sting looked down at his cell phone, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

Emma.

"So what are you wearing?" he couldn't help but tease as he answered the phone.

"St-Steve?" Emma's frightened voice filled his ear.

Instantly Sting was on alert, "Emma? What's wrong?"

"I-I. . ." he heard a few shallow breaths coming from her before she stammered, "Sn-snake."

"Snake?" Sting's eyes narrowed in confusion, "What about a snake, sweetheart? There's a snake with you?"

She didn't answer and all he could make out were the sounds of the phone moving. He imagined she was too afraid to speak and could only nod her head.

"Where are you?" he asked her gently.

"E-Eric's off-office." she gasped, "Please, hurry."

"I'm coming." Sting assured her as he began to race down the hall, "I'm on my way."

He raced through the hall and it wasn't long until he reached Bischoff's closed office door. As he opened it his eyes immediately went to Emma. She had somehow scrambled up onto Eric's low bookcase. She was sitting there, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Her wide eyes were locked on the snake, watching with unabashed fear. Sweat had broken out across her forehead and her face was deathly pale with fright.

Sting followed her gaze, to the python that laid on the floor at the base of the bookcase. He took an involuntary step back and swallowed hard as he caught sight of it. He wasn't exactly a fan of snakes, either.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room and looked around for something to use to trap it.

It was then that he spotted the box sitting on the table. That must have been what it had came in.

He eased his way around the office, making sure to stay against the far wall, and slowly picked up the box. As he turned his eyes once again fell on Emma.

She was still staring at the creature curled up at the bottom of the bookcase, her gaze unwavering. She didn't even blink. Sting felt worry begin to well up inside him and he prayed that she wasn't going into some sort of shock.

He carefully began to make his way over to the snake, ever mindful should it turn it's attention onto him. But, to his great relief, it seemed content to just lay curled up in it's ball.

He was only a few feet away from it when he gradually eased the box up and positioned it over the creature. His eyes returned to Emma and his resolve set in.

Without wasting any more time he let go of the box. It dropped neatly over the reptile, blocking it from view. Sting turned and picked up a few books, setting them on top of the box, should the snake try to get out.

Once it had been taken care of he went to Emma.

"It's okay." he told her, holding his arms out to her, "He's gone now."

Emma slowly turned and stared at him. After a few seconds she began to blink and color started to come back to her cheeks. Gradually she released the hold on her legs and leaned down to him. Sting picked her up, bringing her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. She was shaking like a leaf.

He stepped out into the hallway. At the sight of them a few of the crew and a couple of the wrestlers came running up.

"What's going on?" Tori asked in concern.

"There's a python trapped in Bischoff's office." Sting informed her, "We need someone to remove it."

"Python?" Tori squeaked.

"We've got it." one of the crew members told him and he motioned for a couple of guys to go with him.

"Is she okay?" Rob Van Dam questioned.

Emma slowly looked up, frowning, "I'm afraid of snakes."

That got a good-natured laugh from the others. Sting pressed a kiss to the top of her head and began to make his way down the hall.

"I can walk." Emma assured him.

"Hey, I'm not objecting to having a beautiful woman in my arms." Sting teased.

Emma shook her head, a small smile coming to her lips. It eased him mind a little, knowing that she was okay enough to at least smile.

They went a few more steps before coming to his dressing room. He opened the door and stepped inside, sitting her on the nearby couch.

She once again drew her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. Her chin went to her knees and she closed her eyes, frowning. Sting joined her on the couch and ran his hand through her hair.

"You doing all right?" he asked her gently.

She opened her eyes and sighed, "I'm okay."

"So how did you end up in Bischoff's office with a snake?" he asked her.

Emma hedged, not wanting him to know because she knew how he'd react.

"There was a package." she murmured, her eyes on her feet.

"For me?" Sting asked.

Emma shook her head, still not meeting his eyes.

"For you." the wrestler surmised.

Emma nodded again, her eyes slowly traveling to his face. Though he was concerned for her, it was clear he was fighting not to show the anger he was feeling.

"Well at least you weren't hurt." he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"So I'm guessing that was Jake the Snake." Emma deadpanned, earning a laugh from the Icon.

"Looks like it." he grinned.

"Yeah, I was never really a fan." Emma retorted.

"Me, either." Sting assured her as he fought not to smirk.

At that moment they heard a couple of crew members walk by.

"Mr. Bishoff said he wanted his car washed and polished before he left the arena tonight." one of them was grumbling, "Like I don't have anything better to do than take care of his stinking Jaguar. I'm only running the lighting board in this joint. I'm so sick of that jerk. I wish Sting would beat the hell out of him and be done with it."

"Quiet." the other replied sharply, "He's just right there down the hall. If he hears you it'll be both our asses."

Sting's smile instantly evaporated and he rose to his feet. Without a word he opened the dressing room door and went out into the hall.

"Oh no." Emma murmured as she stood up and hurried after him.

She fell into step beside him, reaching out to take hold of his arm, "Steve, don't."

"Go back to the dressing room, Emma." he ordered, his eyes locked on something up ahead.

Emma followed his gaze and swallowed. She could see Eric standing up ahead with Jeff Jarrett.

"You come, too." she tried to tug him back a step but it did no good. It was like trying to tug on a brick wall.

She had no choice but to trail after him, fear welling up inside her. Fear of what he was going to do to Eric.

Sting continued on, eyes narrowed and mouth set. His gaze was locked onto Bischoff like a heat seeking missile.

He promptly shoved Jarrett out of the way, not even giving him a glance, and grabbed at Bischoff's throat. He slammed the smaller man against the wall, his grip tightening as he leaned in close until they were nose-to-nose.

"Steve!" Emma gasped in shock.

"Hey, security!" Jeff called out, looking frantically up and down the halls, "Security, get over here right now!"

Eric looked up at the frightening man with wide eyes. His trembling hands raised, as if in surrender.

"W-w-what do you wa-wa-want?" he stammered in fear.

"I want to know what your game is." Sting muttered darkly, "I want to know who you're getting to represent Immortal. And I want to know. Right! Now!"

He emphasized his stance by slamming Eric back against the wall. The Impact owner grunted in pain, his wide eyes never leaving the Icon's face. Sting's grip on the smaller man's throat tightened, causing Eric's face to redden even more.

Jeff jumped forward and grabbed a hold of Sting's arm, meaning to pull him off the other man. But it did no good as Sting refused to budge.

"Come on, Stinger." Jeff grumbled as he tugged, "Let him go."

Sting turned, setting his dark gaze upon the other man, "This doesn't concern you, Jarrett. If you want to keep it that way let go of my arm and get out of here."

Jeff glanced nervously from Eric to Sting and back again. Without a word he let go of Sting's arm and turned, walking quickly away.

"Jeff!" Eric gasped, his voice hoarse, "Jeff, get back here!"

But Jarrett refused to acknowledge him and continued on. He'd rather have to deal with a hundred Bischoffs than one Sting.

Eric noticed Emma standing behind the Icon and he began to beg her, "Emma, please! Please tell him to let me go!"

Emma hedged, unsure of what to say or do. On one hand she thought Sting had every right to interrogate the cretin. And if he was finally able to get some answers, more the better.

But on the other, she couldn't help but worry about what the ramifications would be after this latest encounter.

"Just be honest for once, Eric." she tried to implore him, "Please."

Eric turned back to Sting, the wheels in his mind turning. He decided to try a new tactic.

He began to laugh weakly, "Come on, Stinger. I thought we were having a little fun and games with those packages."

"That was before you got her involved, Eric!" Sting bellowed, pointing a finger in Emma's direction.

"It was just a little joke." Eric offered a weak half-smile.

"Just a little joke." Sting repeated.

He looked away and began to laugh, muttering, "Yeah, sure. Just a little joke."

Emma looked back and forth between Sting and Eric, her apprehension growing. She was angry, too. And still a little afraid. But she also knew it could be very dangerous for Sting to give into his anger at that moment. Eric would make him pay for it sooner or later.

"Did you know she was afraid of snakes?" Sting demanded, turning back to the smaller man.

Emma paused, not considering that. She found herself looking up at Eric with more interest.

Eric nervously glanced at the young woman before turning his attention back to the wrestler. He felt his trepidation grow as he took in the unleashed rage ready to explode in the Insane Icon.

"No." he lied.

Sting released him and looked away, grinning. Suddenly the grin turned into a sneer and he turned around, sending a vicious blow to the Impact owner's gut. Eric let out a groan and sank to his knees, his arms wrapped around his middle.

At that moment security rushed forward and shoved Sting back. Sting raised his hands in the air and began to walk backwards down the hallway.

Emma shook her head at Eric and sighed.

"What?" Eric snapped up at her, "Don't you have some work to do?"

"Consider this me taking a personal day." Emma muttered before turning and running off after Sting.

Eric watched after them, his eyes constricting as Emma reached the wrestler and put a hand on his arm. Sting came to a stop and turned back to her. Without saying a word he slipped an arm over her shoulders and the pair continued on.

Security tried to help Eric up but he snarled and pushed them away. He rose on shaky legs and stormed into his office, slamming the door closed behind him.

He went over to his chair and gingerly sat down, his arm locking around his sore stomach. He pulled out his cell phone and angrily punched in a number.

"Get ready." he barked before the person on the other end could even say hello, "I want you at Impact next week."

His eyes narrowed, "It's time we shut that son-of-a-bitch up for good."

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Emma sat on the couch in Sting's dressing room. Just beyond, through an open doorway, she could hear the sounds of the shower running.

She peeked over towards the entranceway, curiosity welling up deep inside her. Feeling like a bit of a voyeur, she quickly looked way. She glanced down at her hands, trying to examine her nails.

But her gaze once again flittered over to the doorway and she involuntarily licked her lips. Images began to flash in her mind's eye. Images of Sting. In the shower. Wet.

And naked.

She swiftly turned away, her eyes slamming shut. She felt a blush warm her cheeks as she silently chastised herself.

_Stop that! _she scolded herself.

She suddenly couldn't sit still any longer and she quickly rose from the couch. She began to pace the small room, her fingers twisting in front of her.

_Think of something else_, she ordered, _Um. . .Milk! Yes, you're almost out of milk. You need to go get milk at the store sometime this week. And toilet paper. Can't have enough of that. What else? Shampoo. Yep, almost out of that, too._

But the thoughts of shampoo soon led to thoughts of washing hair. In the shower.

And her eyes once again glanced towards the entranceway.

She could just imagine him standing there, hands raking through his hair as he washed the shampoo out. Water trickling over his hard muscles to run like rivers down his abs and. . . lower.

She slowly found herself walking towards the doorway without realizing it. She couldn't help herself. It was like she felt compelled to. Almost like he was calling to her in some wordless way.

Emma was almost to the entranceway when she heard the sounds of the water shutting off. That seemed to knock her out of her trance and she blinked, eyes wide as panic set in. Silently yelping, she turned and practically jumped back onto the couch. She quickly looked this way and that, trying to find something to conceal what she had just done.

What she had just thought about doing. . .

She quickly spotted a copy of _Sports Illustrated_ and she swiftly snatched it up, flipping to a random page. She buried her eyes in the magazine and willed herself to at least look nonchalant.

"Almost ready." Sting stated as he entered the dressing room a short time later.

Emma glanced up and suddenly felt unexpectedly disappointed. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, his shoes in his hands. She was kind of, almost, hoping that he would have come out wearing a towel.

_You have got to get a grip, girl_, she thought with a sigh.

Sting sat down beside her on the couch and put on his shoes.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asked as he rose to his feet.

"Yes." Emma exhaled, also standing. The sooner she got out of there the better.

He grabbed a hold of his bag with one hand, her hand with the other, and the pair made their way out of the Impact Zone.

"Where to?" Sting asked as they climbed into his SUV.

"Anywhere." Emma told him as she put on her seatbelt.

"How about my house?" Sting arched an eyebrow at her and smirked, "You know, Bongo and Venom haven't stopped talking about you. 'When's Emma coming back? When's Emma coming back?' Yak, yak, yak."

Emma smiled over at him, getting into the act, "Well I really should go by and see them. So they'll stop bothering you, of course."

"Of course." Sting agreed solemnly.

They reached his house in no time. As they pulled up front Emma couldn't help but look up at it in awe. No matter how many times she saw it, it still took her breath away.

Sting glanced over at her and found himself grinning, deeply pleased that she seemed to love his home. He liked the idea of her feeling at home at his place.

He cut the engine and the pair climbed out of the vehicle. As he led the way inside Bongo and Venom came barreling forward. Bongo to Sting and Venom to Emma.

Sting gave the dog a few healthy pats and turned, grinning. Emma was sitting Indian style on the floor, the cat already curled up in her lap. As she pet her Venom rubbed up against her breast and started purring happily.

_Can't say I blame her_, he found himself thinking, _I'd probably do the same thing in her position._

He blinked, realizing his thoughts. He turned away and ran a hand through his hair, silently chastising himself for his thoughts.

And for not feeling as guilty as he probably should have been.

He was just about to ask her if she was hungry when he heard the buzzer. Bongo hurried to the door and began to wag his tail, barking.

Emma looked over in surprise.

"Be right back." Sting told her as he headed outside, the German Sheppard right at his heels.

He walked over to the gate, noticing a messenger standing on the other side. In his hands was a package.

Sting felt irritation rise up in him. Not again. Sighing, he opened the gate.

The messenger began to grin as he approached, "Good evening."

"Evening." Sting repeated, his eyes locked on the package.

"Just need you to sign here." the man told him, handing him an electronic clipboard.

Sting signed and handed it back.

"Thanks." he nodded as he accepted the package.

As the messenger returned to his truck Sting made his way back into the house. As he stepped inside he heard Emma call out, "I'm in the kitchen! Venom was hungry so I grabbed some food for her."

"Thanks." Sting called back as he made his way towards the sound of her voice.

He entered the kitchen, parcel in his hands. At the sight of it Emma jumped up and walked around to the other side of the island. She regarded it with fear.

Sting looked up and raised a hand to her, his voice gentle, "Easy. Easy. It's all right."

He took it to the island and opened it, cautiously peering inside. His eyes narrowed in thought as he pulled out a magic kit.

Emma paused, confused.

"I don't get it." she murmured, shaking her head.

"I do." Sting sighed and tossed the kit onto the island, "The Black Scorpion."

Emma blinked, "Wait, wasn't that Ric Flair?"

Sting nodded.

"Why would they pit Flair against you?" Emma was surprised, "You've already beaten him numerous times."

Sting tapped his fingers against the kit, "That's the thing. I don't think it is Flair. I think it's just more of Immortal's mind games."

"Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line." Emma muttered, her gaze on the kit.

"What?" Sting asked with a confused chuckle.

"Nothing. It's just. . ." Emma shrugged, "Well, you _are_ the master of mind games. Do they really think it's a good idea to try and pull something over on you?"

"Thinking was never Bischoff's strong suit." Sting quipped, earning a smile from her.

"Just be careful, all right." Emma rounded the island and stepped up to him, "Just when you think Eric's at his most harmless that's when he strikes."

"I know." he nodded, his hands going to her hips, "I'm no stranger to Bischoff or his games."

"No." she murmured as she gave him a gentle smile, "No, I suppose you're not."

Her arms slowly went around his waist and she laid her head against his chest. As she listened to his heart beating in her ear she found her eyes gradually closing. She nestled closer to him, enjoying his strong chest and the warmth of his arms.

She found herself yawning, beyond comfortable.

"You going to sleep on me?" Sting murmured with a light laugh as he stroked her hair.

"A little. Raging fear will do that to a girl." Emma tried to joke it off, but Sting could tell that she was still bothered by the events from earlier.

"Emma-" he started to speak but she cut him off.

"I'm all right." she assured him, looking up to give him a warm smile, "Really."

She added with a smirk, "I don't know how much sleep I'll be getting tonight, but I'm fine."

"Stay the night." Sting found himself saying.

He blinked, just as surprised by his comment as she was. Where had that come from?

But even as he thought that, he knew. Holding her in his arms like that, all he wanted to do was take her to his bed and make love to her. Hold her in the darkness and show her that she would be all right.

He couldn't forget the look of fear on her face and it made him sick. More than anything, he wanted to take that look away. He wanted it wiped out of his mind and replaced with other looks. Namely, passion and desire. He wanted to see that on her face more than he could say.

Emma slowly pulled back and looked up at him with wide eyes. She really didn't know what to say. Or think, for that matter.

She wouldn't deny that she wanted to. If anything, her little peep show earlier had told her that. And so had the dreams and fantasies she had been having about him. Dreams and fantasies that had plagued her for a long time now, even before they had officially gotten together.

She wanted him. More than she had ever wanted anything before. Certainly more than she had wanted _anyone_ before. And she had always known, at least on some level, that they would be heading to the bedroom. It was inevitable.

But as much as she wanted him, she was still just as afraid by it. By her thoughts and feelings for him. By the idea of being with him.

She wished she could tell him. But the truth was, she didn't know how to. Didn't know what he would think if he knew.

"Emma," Sting reached out and cupped her cheeks in his hands, "Listen, I didn't mean stay the night as in stay the night in my bed."

He flashed a quick grin, "Not that I'd have any objections to it."

He grew serious, going on, "I just meant that you're welcome to stay here. I've got plenty of room."

Sting glanced over at Venom, who was perched on one of the island chairs, "And I know that fleabag would love to have a slumber party."

Venom meowed in response, causing them to laugh.

Emma turned back to find him watching her tenderly.

"I meant it when I said I'd wait." he told her, brushing a hand over her temple, "I don't want to pressure you into doing something you're not ready for.

"I want you. I have for a long time now." he admitted, his voice husky and low, "But I want you to want it, too."

"I. . ." Emma paused, unsure of what to say.

How could she tell him that she did want it, but still wasn't ready yet? What was wrong with her?

"I love you." she whispered and felt relieved when he began to smile at her announcement, "And I. . .I think it would be best if I slept in my own bed tonight."

Sting nodded with understanding, but he couldn't deny the disappointment he felt. He wished he knew why she was still so afraid.

Was it him? Was she afraid of him? She said she trusted him now, and he was almost one hundred percent certain that she did. So why was she holding back?

He leaned down and planted a kiss against her temple.

"Come on." he told her as he slipped an arm around her shoulders, "I'll drive you home."

.

.

.

.

.

Emma was woken up at seven o'clock the next morning to the sounds of her cell phone going off.

She was having a particularly. . .enjoyable dream. One that was just starting to heat up when she was so rudely woken up.

Sighing, she sat up and reached for her phone. Her eyes widened as she discovered who was calling her.

Why if it wasn't her dream co-star now.

"Steve?" she yawned as she answered the phone.

"Did I wake you?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Nope." she lied.

"Liar." he called her out and she couldn't help but grin.

"Okay, maybe." she leaned back against her pillows and sighed, "What's up?"

"I just wanted to know if you felt like an early breakfast." he inquired.

"Sounds good." Emma began to smile, "I can be at your place in about thirty minutes."

"Not my place." Sting told her, "Do you know where Pete's Gym is?"

"I'm not sure."

"West on Ocean Avenue." he explained, "Across from Highland's Market."

"Oh, okay." Emma instantly knew the area, "I can be there in about twenty minutes."

"Don't rush on my account." he told her, "I still need to put in a little more time."

"Okay." Emma stated as she sat up, "I'll be there in, say, forty minutes?"

"Sounds good." though she couldn't see him, she was just sure he was flashing that trademark grin of his.

Emma bid him goodbye and practically bounded out of bed. As she grabbed her clothes and make-up bag she couldn't help but walk into the bathroom with a smile on her face.

And here she had been so worried that he might start pulling away from her because of her reaction to him last night. If anything, it only seemed to make him want to be closer to her.

That thought eased her mind and made her steps lighter.

As promised she reached the gym about forty minutes later.

As she stepped inside the large space her eyes searched throughout the room. There were a few men in there, lifting weights and using the machines.

But no sign of Sting.

"Can I help you?"

Emma turned around and smiled up at a mountain of a man. About seven feet tall and a wall of muscle. He would have been scary if not for the toothy grin he had on his face.

"Hi." she greeted him warmly, "I'm looking for Steve Borden. I was supposed to meet him here."

"Emma." the man's smile grew, "Sting's in the back, working out. Go right through that curtain. I'm Pete, by the way."

"Thank you." she shook his hand, hers getting swallowed up in his massive paw, "And it was nice meeting you."

"He was right about you." the gym owner called after her as she started to walk away.  
Emma paused and looked back at him with a confused smile, "Right about me?"

"He said to be on the lookout for a beautiful lady." Pete grinned, "He wasn't lying."

Emma felt herself blush, her eyes instantly going to the ground.

"You're a flirt." she accused as she turned back to him.

"You have no idea, little bit." he chuckled, earning a laugh from her.

She waved to him before turning and spying the curtain. As she approached she could hear the sounds of feet running across what sounded like a ring. Curiosity got to her and slipped inside, drawling to a stop at what she saw.

There was Sting, running the ropes. She stood there, in awe, as she watched him. He had the speed of a linebacker and the grace of a jungle cat. It was an amazing combination.

Her eyes traveled back and forth, taking in the way his muscles strained and bunched in his arms and legs from where they emerged from his shorts and sleeveless t-shirt. A fine sheen of sweat had built up and it only added to her appeal for him, accentuating the strength in his arms and legs.

He eventually drew to a stop and, hands on his thighs, leaned down to take a few deep breaths. He grabbed a towel that was laying across a turnbuckle and began to wipe himself down.

_Oh to be that towel_, Emma involuntarily thought before realization hit her. Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth as though she had spoken the words instead of thought them.

He turned around and began to smile as he spotted her. His grin seemed to grow as he approached the ropes and leaned on them.

"Good morning, pretty lady." he greeted her warmly.

Emma looked up at him and beamed, "Hello, handsome man."

Sting bowed his head and chuckled and for a moment Emma was stunned. Had she actually embarrassed him for once? The idea of it caused her own smile to grow.

Sting backed up a few steps and motioned towards the ring, "Care to come in?"

Emma arched an eyebrow at him, "Are you challenging me to a match?"

"Maybe." he smirked, "Think you're up for it?"

Emma giggled as she shrugged off her jacket and climbed up onto the apron. Sting instantly stepped forward and parted the ropes for her, helping her in.

"Well at least you're a considerate opponent." she murmured as she made her way to the center of the ring.

"I know a few guys who'd say otherwise." the Icon grinned as he slowly approached her.

Though they were only playing Emma felt her adrenaline begin to rise and she carefully circled away from him.

He followed after her, always a few feet in front. They gradually began to maneuver around the ring, neither making a move towards the other. It almost resembled a dance in a way.

Emma knew he could reach out and grab her at anytime and yet he didn't. She was actually a little disappointed by that and her anticipation grew.

"So you're not gonna, ya know, Death Drop me, are you?" she asked lightly as she slipped to her right.

"No." he shook his head, his eyes darkening, "I have something else in mind for when I catch you."

Emma's eyes widened and her heartbeat began to speed up. She didn't know what he had in mind, but she couldn't wait to find out.

And suddenly he's on her. Emma let out a squeal and a giggle as Sting took hold of her waist and gentle took her to the ground. Both laughing, he got her flat on the canvas and sat astride her. He easily pinned her to the mat, his hands holding down her wrists in a gentle hold. Emma looked up at him and giggled again.

"I don't think this is a legal pin." she teased.

Sting grinned as he looked her over, "Looks pretty legal to me."

They continued to stare at one another as their smiles slowly began to fade. He gently leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Just that barest touch and the kiss soon turned heated. She opened her mouth to his assault, her tongue curling with his own. His hands tightened on her wrists, his body coming down to cover hers more fully.

She felt good underneath him. Soft and warm. And though there was a big difference in their heights, she seemed to mold against his body perfectly.

Emma whimpered against his mouth, her body arching against him almost of it's own volition. She loved the feel of him, his heavy weight pressing her down into the canvas.

He released her wrists, his hands running down the sides of her body to take hold of her hips. Gripping her tightly, he pulled her more fully to him, causing another whimper to escape her.

Emma reached up and took hold of his head, pulling him closer to her as they deepened the embrace.

Sting's mouth traveled from her lips to her jaw line. From there he moved down to her neck, licking the silky flesh he found there before placing gentle, and then not so gentle, bites against it.

She mewed and turned, pressing sweet kisses to his temple. Her hands traveled down to his back and she pressed him closer to her, if that were possible.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at the ceiling lights of the gym that loomed above her. She turned her head and caught sight of the ring ropes and her eyes widened as realization hit her. They couldn't! Not there!

"Steve?" she called to him, her voice catching, "Steve, we have to stop."

Sting groaned but didn't comply. He couldn't stop himself. She felt too good. His lips traveled from her neck to the base of her throat. He could feel her pulse against his tongue and it only seemed to excite him more, spurning him on as it throbbed with it's own hypnotic rhythm.

"Steve?" Emma pulled back as best she could, "Please stop."

The sound of her voice, more so, the sound of the slight panic in her tone, caused him to instantly pull back. He was breathing hard and she could see the strain on his face as he fought not to return to her.

He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that it physically hurt. And he had almost thought about taking her right there in the middle of the ring in Pete's Gym. Correction, he hadn't thought at all. He had just wanted.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to get control over his raging body. After a few painful moments he dared to open them. He braced himself to see fear on her face.

But to his immense relief there was none. Just a deep blush and that sweet, embarrassed smile. It made him feel so much better.

"Is your back okay?" he asked as he loosened his hold and climbed off of her.

She blinked, surprised by the question. Granted, the mat wasn't the most comfortable thing she had ever laid on, but it didn't hurt her.

"It's fine." she assured him, moved by his concern.

She rolled onto her side and propped her elbow up, her chin in her hand. She looked over at him silently, thoughtfully.

"What?" he grinned at her, curious.

She bowed her head. She couldn't tell him what she was really thinking. She was too embarrassed.

"Nothing." she shook her head, going for the other thought that was flittering around in her mind, "I was just thinking about how much I admire what you do."

His grin grew, the wrestler touched by her admiration.

"You put your body on the line night in and night out." Emma breathed, impressed, "I. . . I couldn't do that."

"I wouldn't want you to do it." Sting's grin turned teasing, "I like your body just the way it is. I wouldn't want to see you put it on the line."

Emma's blush grew and her eyes briefly flashed to the canvas. She cleared her throat and sat up, self-conscious. She didn't know why she should be. It was just teasing.

Sting took note of her expression, thinking she had to be the most innocent person he had ever met. And in this business that was hard to find. It only made him appreciate her more.

Groaning, he rose to his feet and held his hand out to her, "Come on. I owe you breakfast."

She allowed him to clasp her hand. He easily brought her to her feet and reached out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. They looked at one another, each alone with their thoughts.

"I think I like wrestling even more." she at last murmured, shy.

"I think I like _you_ even more." he countered, earning another blush from her.

"All right." she took a step back and laughed, "You owe me breakfast, mister."

"Yes, ma'am." Sting gave her a salute, earning another giggle from her, "Let me grab a quick shower and we can go."

They climbed out of the ring and he motioned her to go back through the curtain while he went to the locker room to shower and change.

As he grabbed his soap and towel, and climbed into the shower, he let out a groan. But it wasn't from the exertion of the workout.

He turned on the water and braced his hands against the wall. He bowed his head and let it wash over his back.

What was the matter with him? How could he almost take her right there in the middle of the ring? In full view of anyone that might come walking through the curtain?

Jeez, he wasn't even that randy when he was younger.

What was it about her? He couldn't get enough of her. Every time he came in contact with her he always wanted more. Just touching her, just kissing her, it was never enough.

_You've got to get control of your raging hormones, Stinger,_ he angrily chastised himself, _Stop acting like a horny teenager. Before you scare her away._

Emma had been talking to Pete for ten minutes when he finally emerged from the back. At the sight of her he began to grin and that emotion he couldn't name twisted his gut.

"Ready?" he asked as he approached and he was rewarded with a bright smile from her.

"Yep." she nodded, slipping her hand in his.

"Thanks, Pete." Sting stated, shaking hands with the massive man.

"See ya, Stinger." Pete glanced down at Emma and grinned, "Good meeting you, Emma."

"You, too." Emma smiled warmly at him.

"Let's go get you fed." Sting smirked as he led the way out of the gym.

"So where to?" Emma asked as they made their way up the sidewalk.

"Diner up the block." Sting motioned forward, "Best breakfast this side of the Atlantic."

"Sounds wonderful." Emma smiled up at him.

They reached it shortly, Sting holding the door open for her. As they went inside, he led her to a back booth. The pair slid into it, their knees brushing. Emma smiled and glanced down at the table. Sting grinned, bumping her knee with his.

"So what do you suggest?" the young woman asked as she opened the menu and began to look it over.

"The ham and eggs are good." Sting murmured as he, took, skimmed the menu.

"Ooh, chocolate chip pancakes!" he heard her exclaim and he began to smirk.

"Or chocolate chip pancakes." he repeated with a laugh.

The waitress came up to them a few moments later. She looked down at Sting and her smile instantly grew.

"What can I get for you, sugar?" she asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Ah," Sting looked down at his menu for a moment before nodding towards Emma, "Emma?"

Emma smiled at him, enjoying his embarrassment, and replied, "The chocolate chip pancakes, please."

"Sure thing, sweetie." she nodded, writing down the order, "And to drink? Coffee?"

"No thanks." Emma deadpanned, "I'll stunt my growth."

The waitress snorted and Sting began to chuckle.

"Oh, that's cute, Em." he shook his head.

"I thought so." Emma beamed, "Um, milk please."

"Coming up." the waitress turned to him, "And you, handsome?"

"Ah," Sting once again looked down at his menu, "Ham and eggs, please. Whole wheat toast. And coffee, please."

"Sure thing." the waitress grinned coyly at him, took their menus and sashayed off.

Emma watched after her before turning back to him with a snort.

"She was totally flirting with you." she giggled.

"Nah," Sting shrugged it off, "She was just being friendly."

"So not." Emma snickered as she unrolled her napkin and set out her fork, knife and spoon, "You should have flirted back. We might have gotten our meal for free."

"Well I can see you're comfortable with other women flirting with me." Sting grinned.

"Ah ha!" Emma looked up, eyes bright, "So you admit she was flirting with you."

He chuckled as she shook her head and shrugged, "Besides, I don't mind. I can see why she did. What woman wouldn't?"

He reached over and took her hand, planting a kiss against her knuckles, "But I only want to flirt with you."

"Ooh, good answer." Emma smiled at him.

Their food arrived about ten minutes later. As they ate Emma noticed that Sting kept glancing over at her pancakes with a look of almost. . .longing.

"Bite?" she asked, holding her fork out to him.

Sting shook his head and took a healthy bite of his ham, "No thanks."

Emma glanced down before turning back to him, her eyes lighting up and a knowing smile slowly curving her lips.

"You're in training." she realized, her grin growing, "And you can't have this, right?"

Sting shrugged, "No big deal."

"So no sweet, delicious pancakes for you." Emma mused, taking another bite, "No sweet, delicious pancakes filled with yummy, melted chocolate chips and dripping with maple syrup."

Sting looked up at her and found himself laughing, "Wow, are you harsh, lady. I never took you for a heel."

"Oh, but I am." Emma smirked, taking another long, slow bite, "I'm a food heel."

She reached down and started to pick up her napkin, to wipe the dab of maple syrup off of her lip, when Sting stayed her hand. She looked up and her breath caught as he leaned towards her. His expression was one of resolve, his brown eyes seemingly going darker. Realizing what he meant to do, Emma closed her eyes and tilted towards him.

Her heartbeat sped up as she felt his tongue slide leisurely across her top lip, taking the sticky substance away. It was soon followed by a long, slow kiss that stole her breath away.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with equal parts longing and fear.

"Yeah." Sting murmured softly as he pulled back, offering her a heart melting grin, "But you're my heel."

"And you're my hero." Emma smiled sweetly at him.

Sting bowed his head, touched by her words.

"Go on." he nodded towards her plate, "Eat your mouth watering pancakes before they get cold."

Emma grinned and ducked her head. She could definitely get used to breakfasts with the Icon. . .

.

.

.

.

.

Sting was making his way through the backstage area of the IZ that next Thursday night. Due to the actions at the house show, and his confrontation with Bischoff, he thought it best to keep out of sight. At least for a little while. No doubt the Impact owner was cooking up some sort of revenge.

He just hoped he could figure out what it was before Bischoff had a chance to set his plans in motion.

He passed through a doorway and drew to a stop, a slow smirk coming to his lips.

Ric Flair was standing a few feet up ahead, hitting on a very young female crew member. The woman tried to appear flattered, but Sting could see the uneasiness in her eyes.

"There he is! Slick Ric! Owwww!" Sting howled as he started walking, "How you doing, Ric?"

The crew member quickly darted away, a satisfied grin coming to her lips. Ric closed his eyes and shook his head in irritation.

"What?" he asked as the Insane Icon approached him, "What do you want, Sting? What?"

Sting stepped up to him, grinning broadly, "Just wanted to say hi to my old buddy Ric!"

"Hi." Flair deadpanned, "Bye."

Sting quickly darted in front of him, blocking his way, "Where ya going, Ric?"

"Far away from you." Ric muttered, clearly in no mood for Sting's games.

"Aw, come on, Ric." Sting shook his head in mock sadness, "I thought we were pals. Buddies. _Compadres_."

"You're a lunatic." Ric muttered.

"Thank you." Sting flashed his teeth at him.

"You need help, my friend." Ric told him before ducking around him and continuing down the corridor.

Sting leaned back against the wall, both arms and ankles crossed, "Ya know, there's one thing I don't get about you."

"Oh yeah?" Flair turned and looked back at him, "Cause there's a hell of a lot I don't get about you, either, Stinger."

Sting shook his head, mockingly pensive, "How could you do it? How could you align yourself with _Bischoff_ and his cronies?

"Do you remember what it was like in WCW with the NWO?" he challenged, his eyes beginning to narrow, "Us against them. And you were one of the ones leading the charge against them."

The joker was gone. In his place was a man very much serious.

"You were front and center for the fight!" Sting surged off the wall and took a step towards the older man, "And now you're with them?"

"Times have changed." Flair replied with a grin, "Get over it."

Sting continued to watch him with disapproval. At his look Flair's cocky attitude disappeared, anger beginning to simmer in it's place.

"Grown up!" Ric snapped, "Get over it and wise up. Nowadays it's all about money and power. Do you get what I'm saying? Money and power."

Sting scoffed in disgust and looked away. That only seemed to enrage the Nature Boy more and he stalked over to him till the pair were almost nose-to-nose. Sting turned back around to face him, not backing down.

"You could have been a god!" Flair snapped angrily, "If you just would have wised up. Stop being such a boy scout and start using your head!"

"It's not about money and power!" Sting snapped, his eyes flashing like fire, "It's not about being a god!"

He slipped his hands onto his hips, "Do you even remember how it used to be, Ric? Going out there, hearing the crowd, feeling their energy?

"It used to be about doing what you loved. Come win or lose, leaving it all out in the middle of the ring."

Flair shook his head and turned away.

"You've lost your way." Sting told him, causing the older man to spin back around to face him, "I only hope you can get back on track before it's too late."

"I've lost my way?" Flair snapped, "I've lost my way? I'm not running around here acting like the goddamned Joker!

"Do you know who I am? I am the Nature Boy! Woooo!" Ric snapped, pointing his finger in Sting's face, "You need to either get on board or get run over. You need to make a choice!"

"I already did." Sting muttered.

Ric shook his head in revulsion, "Ah, I don't even know why I'm talking to you, you lunatic."

And with that, he turned and stormed away.

Sting shook his head and continued on, frustration welling up inside him. Some things would never change. Some people, too, it seemed.

He found himself once more drawling to a stop and his aggravation began to melt away. His mouth began to turn up in an unexpected grin as his eyes locked onto Emma, who was standing with Tori and Tara a few feet away. The trio were talking happily, Emma with a bright smile on her lips.

At that sight of her Sting felt mood instantly brighten. That was just the affect she had on him.

"Ladies." he replied in exaggerated fashion as he approached the women.

He suddenly grabbed a hold of Emma's hand and planted a loud kiss upon it. He looked up and laughed uproariously, quite pleased with himself.

"And here comes trouble now." Tara quipped good-naturedly.

"Trouble? Where?' Sting looked around, wide eyed.

"And on that note, I better get ready for my match." Tara waved to the others and walked off.

"I should go. . .look for. . .yeah." Tori quickly turned and made herself scarce.

Emma watched after them before turning back to the Icon. She arched an eyebrow, "From Clown Prince to magician. You just made all my friends disappear."

"Not all of them." Sting murmured as he brought her hand to his chest, his thumb stroking the top of it, "Hi."

"Hi." Emma whispered with a soft smile.

"Haven't had a chance to see you much this week." Sting shook his head sadly, "I don't like it. At all."

"Me, either." Emma nodded, "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too." Sting sighed, serious, "I don't like the feeling."

"Me, either."

"So what are you going to do about it?" he asked her, a teasing grin lighting up his features.

"Well, I can think of something." Emma pretended to ponder as she raised up on tiptoe.

"I like the way you think, sweetheart." the Icon muttered as he took hold of her waist and began to lean down.

"Sting!" Ric Flair's voice suddenly bellowed from ringside, "Get your ass down here right now!"

Groaning, the pair broke apart. Simultaneously they looked towards the curtain with narrowed eyes.

"I'm gonna Death Drop him." Sting muttered as he reluctantly let Emma go.

"I fully support that idea." Emma nodded in agreement.

Sting flashed her a brief smile before turning and stalking off towards the ring.

'Slay Me' suddenly poured out over the arena as he emerged from behind the curtain and made his way down to ringside.

"_Now_ you wanna talk?" he sighed after taking the mic that Christy offered up to him, "I'm just about ready to get a kiss from a beautiful lady and _now_ you want to talk?"

He glanced at the camera and winked, "Hi, Emma."

He turned back to find Flair glaring at him.

"What do you want, Ric?" the Insane Icon questioned, "What? Want to tell me more about your so-called money and power? Wanna talk to me about how to be a god? Newsflash, Slick Ric, you can't be a god when you've sold your soul to the devil."

Flair laughed coldly, "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." Sting nodded, grinning.

"Go on, laugh." Flair smirked coldly at him.

Sting began to laugh. Far be it for him to refuse the Nature Boy.

"Yeah, that's right." Flair's smirk grew, "Laugh it up, jackass."

"Oh, I am." Sting told him with a chuckle.

"Yeah." Ric's grin turned to a sneer, "Let's see how much you're laughing when you get your ass kicked. Get him!"

And at that moment Bully Ray, Gunner and Scott Steiner jumped into the ring.

Sting turned around, quickly pulling out his baseball bat. Bully ran up to him, arms raised for a double ax handle. As soon as he reached him Sting leveled him in the gut and he went down.

He turned and did the same with Steiner. As Gunner approached he kicked him in the gut, sending the younger man out of the ring.

Sting turned to Ric with a menacing grin. He began to laugh as Flair raised his hands in surrender and backed into the nearest corner.

"I'm still laughing, Ric!" Sting told him as he approached him, aiming his bat at the other man, "Still laughing!"

"Sting, Sting, Sting." Ric stammered and suddenly he pointed behind him.

Sting narrowed his eyes at the other man, the grin never leaving his lips. Was Flair really pulling that tired old gag?

But curiosity got the better of him and he found he had to look. He turned around and froze for a second, completely shocked to his core.

Standing behind him was Bischoff, who was sneering with contempt. But that wasn't who brought out his surprise. No, it was the man standing with Bischoff.

"Goldberg! Goldberg! Goldberg!" the crowd began to chant.

Bill Goldberg looked at Sting, a sinister grin on his lips. And before the Icon could move, before he could even speak, Goldberg took off for him and leveled him with a massive spear.

Sting let out a grunt as the bigger man slammed into him, knocking him to the canvas with brutal force. The impact caused his bat to go flying out of his hands.

Sting hit the ground with a massive thud and was instantly still.

"No!" Emma screamed from backstage and made a break for the curtain.

"Emma, wait!" Tori called after her, but was too late to stop her.

The young woman dashed down the ramp and hurried to ringside. She climbed into the ring and, pushing past Bischoff, knelt by Sting's side.

"Steve?" she asked, tears in her eyes and her voice shaking in fear, "Steve, wake up! God, please wake up!"

Running her hands through her hair she willed herself to calm down. She needed to get some help for him and she needed to get some help for him now.

"Help!" she called out, looking around the arena, "Somebody, please help!"

She rose on shaky legs and turned around. Suddenly she stilled, her fear going up another notch. Goldberg was standing a few feet away from her, a cold grin on his lips. She had no time to react before he suddenly took off across the ring and speared her, as well.

She felt the air shoot out of her lungs, followed by a searing pain in her ribs and then she felt nothing as she was slammed into the canvas, her head hitting it hard.

Eric looked down at the wrestler and young woman in alarm. He couldn't believe that had just happened. His shocked eyes followed Goldberg as the behemoth rose to his feet and roared with approval.

"No. . ." he shook his head slowly.

He turned to Emma and started to go to her, to check on her, when he heard the crowd begin to cheer. He turned just in time to see Abyss making his way down the ramp and into the ring, Janice in his raised hand.

Bischoff quickly scrambled out with Goldberg and the rest of Immortal as the monster changed the ring, swinging the board around violently.

As Immortal hurried to the back Abyss turned his attention to the unconscious Emma. He dropped the board and knelt down, running a hand through her hair.

"Emma!" he roared in alarm, "Emma!"

Sting blinked and slowly raised his head. With a groan he rolled onto his side, gritting his teeth at the pain that flared up from his chest.

His eyes immediately locked onto Emma, who was laying unconscious on the canvas a few feet away from him. Abyss was sitting over her, her tiny hand gripped in his giant ones. He was calling out to her, his voice full of rage and fear.

Ignoring his pain, Sting quickly rose to his knees and went to her, checking her over.

"What happened?" he demanded as he turned to the monster, "Abyss, what happened?"

"Goldberg speared her!" Abyss roared.

Sting looked towards the ramp and yelled, "Get some help down here! Get some help down here now!"

He turned back to Emma, fighting to control the terror that coursed through him. She looked so still, so pale.

It wasn't long before the EMTs came racing to the ring, wheeling a gurney. Sting and Abyss backed away and watched with panic as they began to work on the unconscious woman.

It wasn't long before they had her strapped onto the gurney and started to wheel her back up the ramp. Sting and Abyss followed after, Sting as close to her as he could be.

"You're going to be okay, Emma." he kept saying over and over again, his voice shaking with terror, "You're going to be okay."

She was still unconscious, and he wasn't entirely sure she could hear him, but he still called out to her. He wanted her to know somehow, someway, that he was right there with her.

It wasn't long until they reached the ambulance. As soon as she was loaded into the back Sting followed after. The EMTs slammed the door shut and they were instantly racing out of the arena.


	19. Part Nineteen: Aftermath

Okay, show of hands. How many of you thought I was bringing Hulk Hogan into the story? Never let it be said that I don't do the unexpected. :P

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Sting sat in the waiting room of the hospital, hunched over his chair, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, looking out over the deserted room.

A few of the nurses and other hospital staff would look over at him occasionally, uncertainty or discomfort written across their faces. He was still in his ring attire and face paint, and he was sure that was what was garnering their attention, but he honestly didn't care.

The only thing he cared about was passed the double doors across the room marked 'Hospital Personnel Only'.

The entire ride from the arena to the hospital he had sat in the ambulance and watched as the EMTs had worked on Emma. He could still see her pale and silent face. Those beautiful blue-green eyes he loved to stare into closed. And they still hadn't opened by the time they had reached the Emergency Room doors.

Once they had pulled up the EMTs unloaded the gurney and took off through the doors. Sting had tried to follow them into one of the backrooms but a couple of staff members had stopped him, barring him entrance. He had been forced to take up a vigil there in the waiting room.

And while it had been almost a half hour ago it seemed like a lifetime.

He leaned back in his chair, face tilted towards the bright overhead lights. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. There, alone and in silence, his fear began to grow. Grow and twist, mutating into anger.

He opened his eyes, the brown depths burning. He welcomed the anger. Embraced it. Fueled it until it began to smolder into a deep, dark rage.

Eric had been playing with him for weeks. Sending him packages, taunting him with clues of past wrestlers. And all this time it had been Bill Goldberg.

Sting felt his eyes constrict as his thoughts slithered to the other man. Well if Bischoff wanted to surprise him he had succeeded. But Goldberg was the last person Sting would have suspected.

He surged to his feet and began to pace the floor. Goldberg! Working with Bischoff and Immortal! Unbelievable!

He rakes his hands through his hair as he thought to control his fury. They had had their differences in the past. And even been opponents a few times. But he had always thought Goldberg was a man of integrity and honor. Of that he used to be sure.

He drew to a stop, a callous snicker flittered out from between his sneering lips. Time really did change all things and all people. And it seemed that money did, as well.

His mouth suddenly distorted into a frown. He could still see Emma lying there, still and pale as. . .

He turned away, his fits balled at his sides. He wanted to punch the wall. Punch it again and again until something snapped. Until he couldn't feel anything anymore.

This was all his fault. He should have taken things more seriously. But he didn't. Like usual he saw it all as some sort of game. He got too cocky and sure of himself and in the end, Emma paid the price.

He rakes his hands through his hair once more. If he lost her. . .

Sting closed is eyes and shook his head. No! No, he couldn't think like that. He really would go crazy if he did.

At that moment a doctor entered the room. He was young, looking no more than twenty, though Sting knew he had to be older. Completely boyish with a mop of sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes behind wire-framed glasses.

"Mr. . . .um, Borden?" he inquired, looking quizzically up at the wrestler.

"Yes." Sting rushed forward, "How is she, doc?"

The young man reached a tentative hand out to him, "I'm, uh, Dr. Church. Ms. Sheffield has suffered a concussion and a-a broken rib as a result of her accident."

Sting paled beneath his face paint.

"She is awake, though." Dr. Church quickly went on, "And resting comfortably. Of course we need to keep her overnight for observations. But barring any problems, she's free to go home tomorrow."

Sting felt his shoulders sag with relief. He blew out the breath he was holding and shook the doctor's hand, "Thank you. Can I go see her?'

"I don't see that being much of a problem." the young doctor gave him a warm smile, "Just a few minutes though. We need her to rest, after all. Um, she's in room 245."

"Thanks again, Doc." Sting shook the man's hand once more and hurried down the hall.

He made it to the doorway of her room in record time. As he stepped inside he paused, surprise welling up inside him.

Emma was laying in the bed. Looking so tiny and quiet. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping soundly. Abyss was sitting beside her bed, the massive wrestler holding her tiny hand in his. He was watching over her, almost like a sentry of some kind.

As though he sensed he was being watched, Abyss turned around, his eyes locking with the Insane Icons. He instantly released his hold on Emma's hand rose to his feet. His eyes went to the nearby wall and floor, everywhere but Sting's. He resembled an errant child who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Hey." Sting greeted him as he made his way to the bed, standing on the opposite side.

"I should go." Abyss started to leave when the Icon raised his hand.

"No, you can stay." he was quick to tell the bigger man, "After what you did for her tonight. . ."

He held out his hand, "Thank you, Chris."

Abyss looked down at Sting's hand, regarding it silently. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and clasped it, giving it an awkward shake.

Emma's eyes fluttered open. She looked around in a haze before, gradually, things began to come into the focus. The first thing she noticed was joined hands directly above her. She followed the arms up to the owners and a slight smile came to her lips.

"Hi, guys." she greeted them, her voice hoarse.

The men quickly released their hold and turned to her in surprise. They instantly took to their seats, leaning over her.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." Sting called out, his voice low and gentle, "Welcome back."

"Emma." Abyss uttered, his own voice raw with emotion.

She looked over at him and offered him a kind smile, "Hi, Chris."

"How are you feeling?" Sting wanted to know.

"My head hurts." the young woman's nose scrunched up at the dull pain that coursed over her head and across her chest, "My side hurts, too."

"You have a concussion." Sting told her grimly, "And a broken rib."

"Ugh." Emma grunted, "So that's what that feels like."

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sting questioned her.

Emma paused, her eyes closing as she tried to think back.

"Goldberg." she murmured, "Hurting you."

She opened her eyes, looking at him, and he ached at the pain he saw in her eyes, "He hurt you. And I went to check on you. . .And that's all I remember."

Sting exhaled, grateful that she didn't remember Goldberg's attack on her.

"I should go." Abyss suddenly rose to his feet.

"Thanks, again, Chris." Sting also stood, again reaching out his hand.

Abyss clasped it, the contact not as awkward that time.

"Thank you, Chris." Emma smiled up at him sweetly.

Abyss looked down at her, tentatively reaching out a hand to stroke her hair. He stopped himself, though, before touching her. Dropping his hand, he turned and quietly left the room.

Emma watched after him for a moment before turning back to Sting. She studied him closely, concern shining in her eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she reached her hand out to him.

He took it almost reluctantly. He glanced down at her hand, studying it. Then gradually his thumb began to rub the top of it. Once. Twice. And then he stopped.

He looked up and offered her a tight smile but she could clearly see the worry in his eyes. Worry and something else. Something she couldn't quite place.

"Don't worry about me." he told her quietly, "Just get some rest."

Emma regarded him closely for a moment but did as she was told and closed her eyes. Through the dull pain in her head and chest, the fatigue and the medication, she could still feel that something was wrong. Deeply wrong. There was something very off about him. And she believed it had to do with more than just her attack.

He was extremely quiet. And though he tried to appear attentive he was almost. . . hesitant to do so.

Maybe he was still reeling over the fact that Eric had brought in Goldberg. _Goldberg_,of all people! She never would have suspected. . .

Maybe he was afraid of being too hands on, worried that he might hurt her.

But even as she told herself that she couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right. She could see the darkness in his eyes. It concerned her.

Her thoughts began to drift away, swallowed up in a haze as her medication started to take affect. Soon she was fast asleep.

Sting watched her, listening as her breathing grew deep and even in sleep. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over her forehead. He noticed his hand shaking and he clenched it into a fist, bringing it back down to the bedside.

He closed his eyes, scrubbing his hands over his face as he fought to control the anger rising up inside him. He kept picturing her unconscious and hurt in the middle of the ring. Over and over again. He couldn't shake the memory.

Inhaling deeply, Sting surged to his feet and began to pace the length of her room.

He was going to make them pay. Each and every one of them. Ending with Bischoff and Goldberg.

Sting turned and paused, catching sight of Emma. Just looking at her helped to calm his rage. If only somewhat.

He carefully made his way back over to her and brushed his hand over her soft hair. Leaning down, he closed his eyes and pressed a tender kiss against her forehead.

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"Hey, sleepyhead."

Emma opened her eyes and looked over at Sting. She let out a yawn and a sweet smile.

"I wasn't sleeping." she murmured.

"Mmm-hmm." Sting smirked at her, "Sure. I believe you."

Emma grinned and started to stretch when she flinched, her hand automatically going to her ribs. She was surprised when they had told her they weren't going to tape them up, but then they had explained that that could hamper her breathing. And so here she was walking around with a broken rib. It was definitely one of the most interesting things that had happened to her.

Sting noticed her flinch, but stopped himself from asking her if she was all right. He had already done that three times since picking her up from the hospital. By the third time she had glared and threatened to hit him with his own baseball bat.

It didn't stop the fury that was laying just below the surface, though. Fury that had been with him since the night before.

When he had gotten home after seeing Emma he had been sent a video of the show. He had sat and watched, seething with an endless amount of rage, as Goldberg had speared Emma. He had actually cried out in alarm over the strike and had jumped to his feet as she hit the canvas.

The only reason why he hadn't gone out that night and beat the crap out of Goldberg was the fact that he had no idea where the coward was staying.

But his time would come. He'd make sure of it.

"We're almost there." he told her as he maneuvered down a side street towards her apartment building, "Then you're getting into bed and getting some rest."

"Ugh." Emma sighed, "I don't want to get any more rest. I'm rested out."

Sting smirked at her pun but shook her head, "Doctor's orders, M&M."

"Can't I rest on the couch?" she asked hopefully, "Ya know, with the television."

Sting pretended to ponder that before at last sighing, "I suppose."

"Yay." Emma grinned, happy to have gotten her way.

He glanced at her sideways, unable to keep the grin off his lips. He had still been feeling angry when he had gone to pick her up from the hospital that afternoon. But just looking at her, at her earnest smile despite the pain he knew she had to be in, lifted his spirits. Mainly because she wouldn't seem to allow him to feel bad.

They reached her apartment a short time later, Sting cutting the engine of the SUV. He quickly hopped out ran around to her side, opening the door.

":Easy." he told her as she slowly began to swing her feet around.

"I promise." Emma assured him, gritting her teeth as she slid out of her seat and to the ground.

At the sight of her pain Sting's dormant anger once again began to flare up. He ruthlessly held it in check though, putting all of his concentration into helping Emma.

They carefully made their way to her front door, the Icon promptly unlocking it. He helped her over to the couch, easing her onto it.

"Lay down." he ordered and Emma, teeth grit, did as she was told.

He reached over and handed her the remote, "Do you need anything else? Magazine? Your notebook?"

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream." was her immediate reply.

Sting looked at her pointedly.

"What? It'll help my rib heal." Emma replied innocently, "Dr. Church did say to put ice on it."

"Ice, sweetheart." Sting deadpanned, "Not ice cream."

"Tomato, tomahto." Emma grumbled.

Sting shook his head and chuckled, "All right. For the rib."

He walked over to her freezer and opened it.

"Uh oh." he glanced over at her with a sheepish look, "No ice cream."

The young woman began to pout.

Sting closed the door and laughed, "Put the lip away. I'll run to the store and buy you some."

Emma beamed.

The wrestler crossed back to her, ice pack in his hand.

"Come on, lift up." he knelt down and gentle eased her shirt up.

Emma glanced at the far wall as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. She glanced down and her embarrassment quickly turned to distress and anger. There was massive bruising all along her left side, the usually creamy skin now purple and blue.

Sting carefully laid the ice pack over the bruising, his jaw tight and his eyes constricted.

Goldberg was a dead man.

He glanced up and noticed that Emma was watching him. She offered a hopeful smile, one that he reciprocated even though he wasn't feeling it.

He leaned over her, pressing a kiss against her forehead, and rose to his feet.

"Stay put." he ordered before stepping out.

Emma smiled, settling back against the couch. She took a deep breath, teeth clenching at the pain that welled up in her chest. She knew she had to do it, but, man, did it hurt!

She turned on the TV and began to flip through the channels. She finally found a cheesy 80s scary movie and began to relax, enjoying the bad acting and abundance of gore.

After about three minutes she heard a knock at her door. Her eyes traveled to it and she bit her lip. She shrugged and turned back to the television.

The knocking came again, more persistent this time.

"Ugh, seriously?" Emma grit her teeth and eased to a sitting position.

Her breathing grew labored, her heart racing at the effort. Pain shot through her side and she almost cried out.

The knocking came again.

"Just a second!" she snapped, her pain getting the best of her.

After a few deep breaths and a silent prayer she rose to her feet and began to gingerly make her way to the door.

"This better be Publisher's Clearing House." she grumbled as she approached the door.

Emma reached it and threw it open. She paused, her eyes widening in shock.

Standing on her doorstep, holding a dozen long stemmed red roses, was Eric Bischoff. The moment he saw her he began to flash his megawatt smile.

"Emma." he greeted her warmly, holding the bouquet out for her.

Emma looked at the flowers with an arched eyebrow before slowly turning back to Bischoff.

"What are you doing here, Eric?" she asked coldly.

Eric slowly brought the bouquet back to his side and sighed, "I, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing. I went by the hospital but they told me you had already been discharged."

"You know, Steve will be back at any moment." Emma muttered as she began to close the door, "So I suggest you leave now."

Eric grabbed a hold of the door, holding it in place, "He just left, Emma."

Emma paused, her eyes widening in alarm. He had been watching her apartment? She contemplated trying to slam the door in his face but instantly thought better of it. She was in too much pain to try and fight him.

"How are you doing?" Eric questioned her as she eased the door back open.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Okay, since you're so interested. I have a concussion. And a broken rib. And right now I should be resting instead of standing here, having to deal with you.

"But better luck next time on trying to kill me." she deadpanned.

Eric simply looked down at her, horrified by not only her condition but her parting comment.

"I wasn't trying to kill you, Emma." he went on as she scoffed, "I didn't even want you to get hurt."

"Yeah, sure." she smirked at him.

"I didn't!" Eric snapped, his trademark temper rearing it's ugly head.

"Then what did you want?" Emma snapped back, "Besides to hurt Steve?"

Eric paused, at a loss of what to say. He glanced down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What do you see in him?" he demanded as he looked back up at her, "I could have given you anything you wanted, Emma. You wanted money? It's yours. You wanted a book career? It's yours. But instead you turned to a lunatic like him!"

"Maybe I like lunatics." Emma replied with a slight smile.

Eric shook his head and snorted.

He turned back to her and murmured, "There's still a chance, you know."

"For what?" Emma questioned, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"For you to get on the winning team." the Impact owner clarified.

"I _am_ on the winning team, Eric." Emma muttered frostily.

Eric began to snicker, "Do you have any idea who your precious Sting is up against, sweet cheeks?"

She glared up at him, amazed. And he honestly wondered why she wanted nothing to do with him?

"I'm familiar with his work." she said dryly, "Now if that's all-"

"One more thing." Eric interrupted her.

"Then say it and leave." Emma snapped, her patience wearing thin. Her side was killing her and she was beginning to feel her fatigue setting in.

"I. . .how long are you out for?" he questioned her.

"Six weeks." Emma murmured with narrow eyes.

"Well, uh, it's not going to count against your time." he replied softly, "It's the least I can do."

"Eric, after Steve's match with Goldberg," Emma told him with a cold smile, "It won't matter anyway."

And with that she closed the door in his face.

She turned and carefully hobbled back to the couch. She had finally managed to get back into a laying position when Sting returned, ice cream in hand.

He watched her carefully as he walked over to her kitchen counter and pulled out a bowl and spoon.

"What were you doing?" he asked as he opened the ice cream and began to spoon it out.

"Nothing." Emma turned back to the television and replied casually, "I just had to use the bathroom."

Sting put the carton into the freezer and made his way over to her. He knelt down and handed her the ice cream, the wrestler regarding her quietly.

"And the roses on the front step?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Emma looked down at the ice cream. Suddenly she wasn't so hungry anymore.

"Eric stopped by." she admitted softly.

Sting rose to his feet and growled, "I'm gonna kill him."

"No!" Emma suddenly reached for him before crying out in pain and grabbing at her injured side.

He was instantly kneeling beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Easy." he told her gently as he helped get her back into a more relaxed position.

She eased back against the pillow and sighed.

"Don't, please." she looked up and took his hand, "Please. Stay with me."

Sting inhaled, debating. After a few silent moments he reluctantly took a seat at the other end of the couch. Emma relaxed considerably and slowly began to eat her ice cream.

"Bite?" she asked with a hopeful smile, holding the spoon out for him.

"No thanks." he murmured, his eyes cloudy in thought.

Emma turned back to the movie and took another bite of her ice cream.

"So why was he here?" she heard Sting's quiet voice ask.

She set the bowl down and turned back to him, "He wanted to see how I was doing. I told him, then told him off and demanded he leave."

He offered a slight smirk at her words, "Feel better?"

"Not really." Emma admitted, but she, too, was smiling slightly.

At that moment there was another knock at the door. Emma sighed and looked to the ceiling.

"If that's Bischoff I really am going to kill him." Sting grumbled as he rose to his feet and stormed over to the door.

He threw it open and paused. Standing on the other side were Tara and Brooke. At the sight of his fearsome face they quickly jumped back in fear.

"If this is a bad time-" Brooke hedged.

"No. No, I'm sorry." Sting apologized, "But I don't think she's up for visitors right now. She needs to be resting-"

"Come in." they heard Emma call from the living room.

Sting sighed, unable to keep from smiling, and moved out of the way. He waved them inside. Tara and Brooke entered, making their way towards their friend. The Icon trailed after them, shaking his head.

"What part of 'rest' don't you understand?" he gently chastised his girlfriend.

"I promise I won't get up from this couch." Emma raised her hand in solemn promise.

"We won't stay long." Tara assured Sting, "We just wanted to see for ourselves that she was okay."

The girls took a seat on the floor by the couch and the trio began to chatter.

"I'm gonna head out for a little while." Sting stated as he leaned over the couch and kissed Emma on the forehead.

"Steve?" Emma looked up at him in worry.

"I'm not going after Bischoff." he assured her, "I'm going to Pete's. I need to blow off a little steam. Be back in about an hour or two."

He turned to the Knockouts and ordered, "Don't let her get off of that couch."

Tara saluted and Brooke nodded, "We'll guard her with our lives."

Sting gave Emma another kiss and then he was gone.

"He looks wiped." Tara sighed as soon as the wrestler was out the door.

"He is." Emma agreed softly, thoughtful.

"How are you feeling?" Brooke asked her friend.

"Like I've been run over by a mack truck." Emma exhaled, wincing at the effort.

"I can't believe it." Tara shook her head in wonder, "Bill Goldberg! And he's working with _Eric Bischoff _of all people! I just don't understand it."

"Do you know Goldberg?" Emma asked her.

"I thought I did." Tara shrugged, "Granted, I haven't seen him in years. But when I knew him he. . .he wasn't like this. He was a good guy."

"Well not anymore." Brooke quipped.

"People change." Tara looked at her fellow Knockout, "In this business they change as often as they change their clothes, you know that."

"What I want to know is why him?" Brooke's brow knit, "Why Goldberg? I mean, Sting's faced so many guys in the past. Why choose him?"

"Because Steve's never beaten him." Emma murmured, realization coming over her.

The Knockouts looked over at her in surprise.

She nodded at them, "It's true. He's never beaten him."

"As much as I hate to admit it, that's smart on Eric's part." Brooke replied hesitantly.

Emma silently agreed. She looked down at her bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and suddenly didn't feel like eating it anymore.

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Sting laid on the weight bench, eyes narrowed. Breathing deeply, he raised and lowered the bar in rapid succession. Up and down. Up and down. Over and over again.

He kept replaying the other night in his head. Goldberg appearing out of nowhere and spearing him. Emma coming to down to ringside. She had to stop doing that!

Goldberg. Spearing her.

Emma. Laying so pale and still.

His teeth began to grit and, practically growling, he raised and lowered the bar three more times.

"You think maybe you oughta take a breather before you pass out?"

Sting blinked, coming back to reality. He set the bar down and sat up, finding James and AJ watching him cautiously.

He seized a nearby towel and scrubbed it across his face, neck and chest. He surged to his feet and grabbed his bottle of water, taking a heavy swig.

"I either do this or I go find Bischoff and pound the living daylights out him." Sting muttered.

"Option number two doesn't sound so bad to me." AJ flashed him a grin.

"How's Emma doing?" James asked.

"Oh she's fine." Sting replied, his tone sardonic, "Considering she was just speared by a 6'4", 285 lbs. monster."

He raked his hands through his hair and turned away, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, we understand." AJ tried to assure him, "So Tara told us she has a broken rib."

"Yeah." Sting turned back to him, his expression sick, "Yeah, she's resting now. I needed to get away for a little while. . .I just had to. . .I don't know."

His eyes began to constrict, his voice darkening, "He came by her place."

"Who?" James demanded.

"Bischoff." Sting practically snarled the name, "That piece of garbage actually had the guts to show up at her door today with a bouquet of roses."

"And you let him live?" James cracked.

"The coward waited until I was gone." Sting shook his head and laughed coldly, "He was checking up on her."

"Maybe he felt guilty." AJ shrugged.

At the looks Sting and James gave him he held up his hands in surrender, "Hey, I said maybe. Maybe Bischoff's shriveled up conscious decided to rear it's ugly little head for a second."

"Yeah, well I'd like to wring his shriveled up little neck." Sting muttered.

"Nothin' would make me happier than to see you do it." James interjected, "But you need to forget about Bischoff. Goldberg is who you should be focusing on."

At the sound of the other wrestler's name Sting's blood began to boil.

Offering a cold smile, he muttered, "Oh don't worry. I haven't forgotten about him."

At that moment his cell phone began to ring. Worry instantly flared up within him, his thoughts immediately going to Emma. Was she in pain?

"Hello?" he called out eagerly.

But it wasn't Emma on the other end.

"And here I thought you'd be playing nursemaid at your girlfriend's side?" came a familiar voice.

"So you're stalking skills go beyond injured women, huh, Bischoff?" Sting laughed, no humor in the sound, "So what do I owe the honor?"

"Actually I'm glad you're at that rundown shack you call a gym." Eric replied smoothly, "Because you're going to need all the help you can get against Goldberg."

Sting's grip on the phone tightened, "Is that it?"

"Almost." Bischoff went on, "I just called to let you know that Thursday, on Impact, I'm holding a contract signing between you and Goldberg. If you're not too afraid, that is."

The wrestler's jaw tightened.

"Not that I would blame you." Eric laughed, "I mean, considering your track record with my guy. . .

"But enough of that." the Impact owner added, "I'll let you get back to your work out, _Icon_."

And with that the call disconnected.

Sting hung up the phone, raking his hands through his hair. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, a cold smile forming on his lips.

Suddenly his demeanor changed. The smile twisted into a snarl and, practically growling, he turned and threw the phone. It slammed against a nearby wall, breaking apart.

James and AJ looked at one another in alarm before turning uneasily back to the other wrestler. He was staring down at the broken equipment, breaking heavily, his hands clenched at his sides.


	20. Part Twenty: Sacrifice

Sting stood in his dressing room Thursday night. Outside he could hear the hustle and bustle of the crew as they ran the show. The sounds of wrestlers as they walked by, either laughing about things that had happened in their personal lives or discussing their upcoming matches.

But inside his dressing room all was still.

His eyes were cast intently on the mirror, staring at the figure before him. The reflection regarded him evenly, brown eyes narrowed slightly in deep thought; his mouth a slash against his face.

It wasn't long until he heard a knock on the door, a voice calling from the other end, "We're almost ready for you, Sting."

He blinked, slowly coming out of his thoughts. He stared at his reflection for a few more moments before giving it a nod. The man in the mirror looked set, determined.

He turned and made his way over to the door, opening it, "Thanks, Jason."

Jason nodded and walked away, speaking into his headset.

Sting stepped out into the hallway and quietly closed his door. He began to make his way to the front, his pace steady and his eyes straight ahead.

As he walked a few of the wrestlers called out to him, wishing him "Good luck", telling him to "Go get 'em". But he paid them no heed. He didn't even hear them over the thoughts rattling around in his brain.

He came to the entrance of the stage, everything in him tensing. Soon the sounds of 'Slay Me' hit the arena and he stepped out to the cheers of the crowd.

The fans may have been expecting to see the Insane Icon, but there was no joyfulness coming from the wrestler. His eyes were locked on Goldberg and Bischoff. A long conference table stood on the middle of the ring, separating Bischoff and Goldberg from the Icon. Jeremy Borash stood at the head of it, contract laid out before him.

Sting stepped into the ring, he and Goldberg staring intently at each other. The other man regarded him coldly, his own stance taut.

"Thank you for joining us, Stinger." Jeremy spoke up, sliding the contract over to Goldberg, "Goldberg, if you'll go ahead and sign the contract."

Goldberg looked down at the contract, studying it for a few moments. He looked over at Sting and offered him a sly smile before taking up the pen, leaning over and giving it a sign.

Jeremy looked down at it as the mammoth wrestler shoved it over to him. He nodded, content, and passed it over to Sting.

"Sting, if you'd go ahead and sign please." he requested.

Sting slowly reached over and took hold of the pen, turning it round and round in his fingers. He stared down at the contract for a moment before turning back to Goldberg.

Not taking his eyes off of the other man, he signed his name in the dotted line.

Bischoff's gaze constricted. It had always unnerved him that Sting was able to do that.

Jeremy picked up the contract and began to smile.

"In three months, at Bound For Glory, the Icon Sting will face-" whatever else he was going to say was cut off as Goldberg snatched the microphone out of his hands.

The crowd began to boo him but Goldberg paid them no heed. His narrowed eyes were locked on the Insane Icon. Sting regarded him evenly, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever was to come.

Goldberg looked him over for a few moments. And though he began to sport a smirk it didn't mask the rage dancing in his eyes.

"'Icon'?" the massive wrestler repeated, "Did I just hear Borash call you an 'icon'?"

Not waiting for the aforementioned icon to answer, he went on, "So what makes you such an icon, Sting? What makes you so worthy to these pieces of garbage?"

The fans began to boo loudly at the insult.

"Everywhere I go all I hear about is Sting." Goldberg snarled, "The Icon. The Franchise.

"I should have been the Franchise of WCW!" he bellowed, "I came in when that company was down on it's knees and I was the one that brought it back up! Me! Nobody else had the record I had! Nobody else had more wins than me! Nobody!"

He began to laugh coldly, "But no. No, all anybody remembers from WCW is the all holy Stinger."

His smile twisted, becoming ugly, "But they forget, their great and powerful Sting never beat me."

Sting's eyes narrowed slightly at that but he remained silent.

"Remember that, _Icon_?" Goldberg snickered, baiting him, "Remember all those matches you and I had? Remember how hard you tried. But you never pulled it off, did you?"

Eric began to grin. He remembered back on those times quite fondly.

"Not too long ago I got the call from Eric." Goldberg went on, "He asked me to come in and take care of a little problem for him. And what do you know? The little problem was you. I jumped at the chance. I couldn't wait to come back and embarrass you one last time."

"So what happened to you, Bill?" Sting wanted to know, "I used to think you had integrity. I used to think you had honor. You were one of the few people in this business that I believed would _never _sell out."

At his words the crowd began to chant "You sold out! You sold out!" Goldberg regarded them darkly, but said nothing.

"But you did, didn't you, Bill?" Sting went on, his voice gaining in volume, "You got in bed with the devil himself! And for what? Money?"

"No, Stinger." Goldberg interjected, "Though the money was a nice incentive."

"So what is this all about, Bill?" Sting inquired, "Are you angry that I care about these fans and they in turn care about me? Are you angry that they bestowed such a humbling honor on me by calling me an Icon?"

He paused, a slight smirk dancing on his lips and a twinkle beginning to shine in his eyes, "Or are you angry because the only thing anyone is going to remember you for is that lackluster match you had with Brock Lesner at Wrestlemania?"

Goldberg's face turned red and he began to tremble in fury. Surprisingly he stayed put, though. Sting imagined it must have taken all of his resolve to do so.

Sting's smirk grew, his white teeth baring in a wide grin, "Is that what this all comes down to, Bill? Jealousy?"

"You're damned right I'm jealous!" the behemoth wrestler suddenly bellowed, causing even Eric to flinch, "What the hell makes you so special? What the hell did you do to deserve being called the Franchise? The Icon? I beat your ass so many times. . ."

His voice trialed off as he realized that he had allowed Sting to get to him.

He turned back to the Insane Icon and began to smirk, "When it all comes down to it, you're nothing but a joke. I mean, look at you! You look ridiculous with that stupid face paint! You act like a goddamned idiot and these dumbasses still cheer you!"

As if on cue the fans began to cheer, some of them chanting Sting's name.

"Face it," Goldberg went on, "You've lost it. Both in your head and here in the ring. You couldn't beat me on your best day. Do you think you've got a shot now, you broken down old man?"

The fans began to chant "You still got it!" but Sting's own smile slowly began to fade. He would by lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous. If he didn't doubt himself. He just had to look at his record against Goldberg as evidence.

But this time wasn't about a championship. It was about so much more. It was about getting Dixie's company back from that weasel, Bischoff. And more importantly, it was about freeing Emma from her contract and getting her manuscripts back to her. Where they belonged. He couldn't lose. There was just too much at stake.

"I won't lie, Bill." he replied as the cheering died down, "I won't lie and tell you our past matches together haven't been on my mind. You are a great wrestler. I won't deny that."

He turned and looked at the other wrestler, set, "But this time, it's not about just you and me. There's no championship on the line. There are more important things here at stake. You see, what I'm fighting for, is to take the power away from that piece of garbage right there."

He pointed at Eric, earning a noticeable gulp from the smaller man. Eric caught himself, though, and slowly began to smile as he remembered that he had Goldberg watching his back.

"I'm fighting to take the company away from him," Sting went on, "And put it back in the hands of it's rightful owner, Dixie Carter."

The crowd began to cheer at his words.

"I'm fighting," Sting went on, his voice gaining in both volume and passion, "To get a good, talented woman out from under the thumb of that man." he again pointed to Bischoff, "I'm fighting to get her out of a sadistic contract and get her manuscripts back where they belong!"

"And that's why you're gonna fail." Goldberg countered, his cold grin returning, "Because I'm not doing it for a couple of stupid women. I'm doing it to show each and every one of these people what a pathetic, washed up, has-been you are. I'm doing it to show them who the real Franchise, who the real Icon, is.

"Oh, and by the way, how is your little girlfriend doing?" he asked with a smirk, "There is one thing I noticed when I was spearing her to the ground and knocking her out cold. She's got a sweet, soft little body. I liked the feel of it underneath me."

Sting regarded him silently, everything in him still. At his almost hollow expression even Eric began to get nervous. He knew that look. Had seen it quite a few times before. It was the look Sting had just before he was about to snap.

He no sooner thought that when the Icon reached over and took hold of the head of the table, flipping it over. The fans began to cheer as both men stormed to the center of the ring, forehead-to-forehead.

"What are you gonna do, _Icon_?" Goldberg asked with a grin, "Huh? What are you gonna do? Gonna hit me? Try it, old man. Try it and see what happens."

Sting's lips pursed, a dangerous light dancing in his eyes. Without a word he hauled off and sent a vicious punch into the other man's jaw. That was all that was needed for a full fledge brawl to breakout. Sting and Goldberg went toe-to-toe, drilling each other with blow after blow. Neither man seemed to feel the shots, each one more intent on doing damage to the other.

It wasn't long before security and even a few of the guys in the back came racing to the ring to break it up.

AJ, James and a couple of security backed Sting into a corner. Bobby Roode, Al Snow and a couple of other security guys did the same with Goldberg in the opposite corner. That didn't stop the two from taking trash to one another, though.

"Just like old times, huh, Bill!" Sting yelled with a grin, adrenaline humming through his body.

"Come on, _Icon_!" Goldberg yelled to Sting, "Come on, _Franchise_! That the best you got?"

That seemed to set Sting off again. He quickly ducked away from the guys and launched himself across the ring and at Goldberg. They were once again trading blows to the sounds of the crowds' cheers.

It wasn't long until they were once again broken up. Eric tugged at Goldberg's shirt and eventually the massive wrestler slipped out of the ring and walked backwards up the ramp. He grinned up at Sting as he and Eric made their ascent. It wasn't long before they slipped behind the curtain and were gone from view.

"Now that's what I call a good time." James grinned up at the Icon.

Sting shook his hand, as well as AJ's. The three left the ring and made their way up the ramp and to the back.

A few the wrestlers called out encouragement to him as he made his way down the hallway and towards his dressing room.

Even before he reached it, though, he could hear his phone ringing. He quickly entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm all right." he grinned, answering the call.

He heard Emma sigh on the other end, "Good to know. So did it feel good to get out all of that pent up rage and frustration."

"Sweetheart, that was just the tip of the iceberg." Sting took a seat on the couch, leaning back against the cushions, "I haven't even begun to get out all of my rage and frustration."

He heard her snicker on the other end and it caused his smile top grow.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, instantly serious.

"I'm all right." she replied quickly, maybe a little too quickly for his liking, "Just resting here on the couch."

"Good girl." he said gently, "Do you have your ice pack?"

"Yes." he could hear the smile in her voice as she added, "And my ice cream."

"For the rib, of course." Sting replied with mock seriousness.

"Of course." Emma concurred before adding softly, "Just be careful, okay?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Sting couldn't help but rib.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Emma exhaled.

There was a small pause, followed by, "So are you coming over after?"

Sting drew silent, his eyes closing briefly. He wanted to take her up on the offer. More than anything, he wanted to see her. Touch her.

But he couldn't do it. Since her attack the guilt he had been feeling continued to eat away at him. Every time he looked at her all he could see was Bully Ray hitting her with the bat and Goldberg spearing her. Over and over again.

It was worse when he slept. He couldn't escape the nightmares. He had woken up on more than one occasion, sweating and his body shaking; panic running through his system like a locomotive.

"I. . .ah, I don't think so." he replied at last, "I'm going to get out of here pretty late and you need the rest. But I'll come over tomorrow for dinner. Hey, I'll even bring Chinese. I think I hear the Kung Pao Chicken calling your name."

"Yeah." Emma said, trying to hide her disappointment and failing, "Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Get some rest, sweetheart." Sting murmured before reluctantly hanging up the phone.

He exhaled, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling.

What was he going to do?

.

.

.

.

.

Emma walked through her apartment with relatively more ease that she had four weeks before. She wandered into the living room and retrieved her notebook. Clasping it to her chest, she turned and walked back into her bedroom and took a seat at her desk.

She flipped open the book to the page where she had left off. Turning to the computer she began to type, her fingers flying across the keyboard as her eyes moved from page to screen and back again.

She glanced back towards the book and paused, her eyes landing on the picture on her desk. It was a photo Tara had taken weeks ago, one night after an Impact show. It was of she and Sting. She was leaning back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his chin against the top of her head. They were looking at the camera, smiling brightly.

_Back when times were happier_, Emma thought with a frown.

She let out a sad sigh, leaning back in her chair. In those four weeks since she had been let out of the hospital Sting had made himself scarce. Sure, he would call her every night to see how she was doing. And he came by at least twice a week to have dinner with her.

But other than that, she'd barely saw him at all. A sarcastic smile crossed her lips. In fact, she was sure she saw him more on TV than in real life.

Emma looked up at the ceiling and sighed. She knew he was spending all of his free time training. Focusing all of his energy on Goldberg. That's what he was supposed to be doing. She understood that.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than that. It was almost like. . .almost like he was pulling away from her.

She wasn't blind. When they were together he was considerably more quiet. Thoughtful. And he was starting to put her at arm's length.

What she didn't understand was why. Surely he couldn't be feeling guilty. What had happened to her wasn't his fault. It was because of Goldberg and Eric. He had to know that.

She rose to her feet and began to wander out of her bedroom and back into the living room. She needed to get up. Walk around. Something.

She made her way over to the coffee table and pick up the remote. She turned on the television and sat down, beginning to channel surf.

After a few minutes, and finding nothing on, she sighed and tossed the remote onto the couch. Running her hands over her eyes, she leaned back against the couch and looked up at the ceiling.

He was slipping away from her. She could feel it as keenly as she could the dull ache in her ribs.

Actually, the pain of possibly losing him hurt much worse.

What could she do to bring him back? How could she show him that what had happened to her wasn't his fault?

How could she reach him?

.

.

.

.

.

A little over two months passed since that contract signing at Impact.

Sting had spent the majority of that time in the gym, either working out or working in the practice ring.

His nights were spent going over his previous matches with Goldberg. And the matches the behemoth had had since then. Sting would stay awake night after night, studying. Scrutinizing. Picking up every subtle nuance he could from Goldberg.

He wondered if Goldberg was doing the same? Probably not, the more he thought about it. The arrogant wrestler was so sure he would have an easy win that he probably felt he didn't need to study his opponent.

Sting was hoping for that. Banking on it. And if it proved to be true he was going to capitalize on it.

He closed his eyes and kept his breathing slow and even as he raised and lowered the barbell.

While he did so his mind began to flash on image after image of Bill Goldberg. His conceited smirk. His brutality in the ring.

But again and again he kept going back to the spear he delivered to Emma.

With each flash of that image he felt his anger begin to grow. And he pushed himself just a little bit harder with the barbell.

He did nearly twenty more reps before having to stop. His eyes flew open and he practically dropped the massive weight, taking a few steps back and bracing his hands on his knees. Leaning over he took a few deep breaths to try and steady his pounding heart.

At last he stood, raking a hand through his hair. He snatched up his towel and scrubbed it over his face. He tossed it around his neck, grabbed his baseball cap and slipped it onto his head. As he picked up his bottle of water he turned and began to make his way towards the locker room to shower and change.

He had just entered it when he heard someone call his name. The wrestler drew to a stop and turned around, surprise filling him. His eyes slowly began to constrict, his jaw tightening.

Eric Bischoff stepped into the locker room, looking it over with disdain before giving the other man his full attention.

"Didja get lost, Bischoff?" Sting asked with a cold smile, "Or maybe you wanted to hurry up and get the crap kicked out of you right now."

Eric gulped, noticeably nervous. He forced his trepidation down, plastering what vaguely passed for a cocky expression.

"I just wanted to give you one last chance to back out, Stinger." he replied smoothly.

Sting couldn't help but snicker at that. Bischoff was getting desperate.

He took a step towards him, Eric quickly taking a step back.

"Now why would I want to do that?" Sting inquired casually.

"Come off it, Sting." Eric snapped, his temper coming to light, "You might be able to fool those idiots in the Impact Zone with your false bravado but we both know you're worried about Goldberg."

He began to smile, "As you should be. I mean, I know I'd be worried if I had to go up against the guy. Especially considering that you never beaten him."  
Sting bowed his head, rubbing his neck, "I have to hand it to you, Bischoff. That was a good move, bringing Bill in. Pretty smart on your part."

He looked back at Eric, his expression fixed, "But what makes you so sure this time it's not going to be different? Like I told Bill at the Impact Zone, I'm not doing this just for me. I'm doing it for Emma and Dixie. For the men and women in the back. I can't lose. I have too much at stake."

As he spoke he began to make his way towards the smaller man. Eric's eyes widened and he began to back up until his back hit the wall and he discovered he had no other place to go. He had no choice but to look up at Sting in fear, terrified at what the other man was going to do to him.

"I'm going to keep coming." he replied, his voice low and even, "Do you finally get it, Bischoff? Goldberg is going to have to put me down for good to stop me. And I know I have to do the same thing to him. I'm ready to go to that place. Is your guy?"

Eric remained silent, studying him. He could tell the man before him was a much different Sting. Even when he had donned the crow face paint and took to the rafters he wasn't as resolved as he was now, standing before him. He knew that the other man meant what he said. Goldberg was going to have to put him down for good to get him to quit. And even then he wondered if that would be enough to stop the Icon.

Eric swallowed, the wheels in his mind turning. He might not be able to shake his confidence in his wrestling ability, but he could get to him another way. If the head and body were unwilling he would just have to go for his heart. And if there was one thing Eric was a hundred percent sure of, it was that the man before him acted with his heart.

"That's all well and good." he replied easily, his megawatt smile once again sliding into place, "For you. But what about sweet little Emma."

Sting's features tensed, his expression becoming fearsome, "If you lay one hand on her you're a dead man."

Eric raised his now trembling hands and laughed weakly, "Who said I was going to do anything to Emma? In fact, last time I checked, I've never laid a hand on her. Or put her in harm's way. _You_ were the one who done that."

Sting turned away, smiling coldly. He turned back to Bischoff with a smirk, "Did you just say you've never put her in harm's way? Or does that python in your office not count?"

"Have you forgotten that the first time she was laid out it was because she was coming to the ring to help you." Eric countered, "Or what about this recent accident-"

"That was no accident." Sting practically snarled, "She was _attacked_! Because of the animal you brought in here!"

"Be that as it may," Eric went on with a sudden burst of bravery, "She was, again, hurt because of you."

He began to smile slowly, "Let's face it. Any time she's been hurt, either physically or emotionally, it has been because of you. Ya know, I might have gotten her a job here-"

"Against her will." Sting muttered darkly.

Eric chose to ignore that, going on, "And, sure, maybe I took control of her manuscripts. But I wasn't the one who kidnapped her and locked her in a closet. You did that. And I wasn't the one who aired her private business for all the world to see. Again, you did that. I wasn't the one who stole her passwords and got her fired-"

"If you finish that sentence there'll be nothing left of you to run Impact." Sting threatened.

Eric paused, at last worried that he had finally pushed the Insane Icon too far. He glanced away, trying to weight his options.

At last he turned back to the wrestler, his tone quiet, "I may have disrupted her life a little bit, but let's be honest here, Stinger. Which one of us has really caused her more pain?"

Suddenly Sting hauled off and drove his fist into Eric's gut. Eric let out a grunt and instantly fell to his knees. He clutched at his now injured middle, his face red. He coughed, gasping and struggling for air.

Sting leaned over and gripped Eric's hair in his fist, yanking his head up.

"Get out of here." he sneered, shoving the Impact owner away, "Or you're not going to need Goldberg cause there's going to be nothing left of you to run Impact!"

Eric staggered to his feet and, slumping against the wall to hold himself up, began to stagger out of the room.

"You think this is over?!" Bischoff coughed, "Goldberg is going to destroy you, Sting! He's going to destroy you! Impact is mine and Impact's going to stay mine!"

Sting actually let out a growl, advancing on the smaller man. Eric's eyes widened and he hurried off, escaping out of a side door and into the night.

The Insane Icon stared daggered at the closed side door, his chest heaving as he fought to control the rage building up inside him.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

Bischoff's words cut deep. Deeper than he had wanted. Deeper than even Bischoff probably knew.

Because he wasn't saying anything that Sting himself hadn't thought over the past two months.

The truth was, he did blame himself of Emma's injuries. He wasn't a fool. He knew that she would have never been hurt if she hadn't tried to come to his aid. Not once but twice. He knew that it was because of him that she had almost lost her manuscripts for good.

The truth was, she probably would have been a lot better off if he hadn't been so selfish and went after her. He should have pushed his feelings aside. Buried them deep down.

She would have been so much better off he had just kept his distance like he had planned to do in the beginning. She wouldn't have gotten so hurt and he could have focused all of his energy on Immortal. Like it should have been from the beginning.

His eyes slide closed as memories began to wash over him.

_ "I. . ." Emma glanced down at her hands as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say to him._

_ She finally looked up at him, sincere, "Be careful."_

_ Sting's grin widened as he promised, "Enjoy the show."_

_ He unexpectedly started making his way back to her. Emma looked up at him in worry. But she didn't move. She wast frozen on the spot._

_ "One more thing." he murmured and suddenly reached behind her._

_ He took hold of her clip and quickly removed it, letting her hair fall down her back and on her shoulders._

_ She closed her eyes and sighed in irritation, "I just put my hair back up."_

_ "And I just took it back down." Sting replied, larger-than-life, before handing her the clip, "Ta ta for now." _

A flash. And then:

_ All of a sudden music began to play out over the restaurant. A haunting tune filled with strings, guitar and piano chords. Emma's eyess narrowed in thought as she listened to the tune. Her eyes suddenly lit up as she began to recognize the melody!_

_ "Find me here. And speak to me." the singer's soulful voice washed over the room, "I want to feel you. I need to hear you."_

_ Emma slowly turned to Sting, finding him grinning at her._

_ "How did you. . .?" her voice trialed off in wonder._

_ Sting rose from his chair and held out a hand to her, "Wanna dance with a madman?"_

_ Emma smiled and took his hand, allowing him to lead her out to the dance floor. He gave her a little turn before pulling her into his arms, holding her close to him. Emma began to blush as she bowed her head, looking at his chest._

_ Sting looked down at the top of her head, his smile fading away. In it's place was an expression at once poignant and thoughtful. His arms tightened around her as he pulled her closer._

Another flash:

_ As he wheeled back around to face her he put his hands on his hips, mainly to keep from reaching out and shaking some sense into her, "After everything that's happened between us you really think I would spend time with you just to try and get something on Bischoff?"_

_ "Then why did you?!" Emma screamed, upset._

_ He yanked his shades off and she could see his eyes were flashing with fury. It caused her to involuntarily backed up another step._

_ Sting tossed his shades over his shoulder before suddenly grabbing either side of her face and yanked her to him. He leaned down, swiftly pressing his lips to hers._

And still another:

_ "No!" Emma snapped, her walls finally coming down, "I fell in love with you and-"_

He opened his eyes and leaned against the wall, looking out into nothing. All the anger and pain he had been feeling suddenly slipped away. In it's place came an eerie calm as he realized what he needed to do.

He straightened from off the wall and collected his things. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he turned and made his way over to the showers. He needed to hurry before he lost his nerve.

He just prayed he had the strength to do what needed to be done.


	21. Part TwentyOne: Surrender

Emma was seated on her couch, reading, when the knock came at her door. She lowered her book and looked at the clock on the wall with curiosity. Almost 9pm. Who was coming to see her at such a late hour?

She closed the book and rose, walking over to the door. She leaned up on tiptoe and peered through the peephole.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she quickly unlocked the door, opening it. There, standing on her doorstep, was Sting. He regarded her evenly, resolution written across his handsome face.

And in that moment she knew.

_Here we go, _she thought as she stepped back and allowed him to enter, _Just try and stay strong._

But even as she thought that fear began to well up deep inside her chest, burning her from the inside out. She slowly closed the door and followed him into the living room. She hung back and leaned against the wall, needing it for support.

She watched on quietly as he turned around and just looked at her. He didn't speak for a long time, simply watching her with something unknown dancing in his eyes.

"Uh," he bowed his head and waved a hand towards her couch, "Why don't we sit down."

It was actually happening. The very thing she had been dreading for two months was finally there.

"No thanks." she replied, somehow finding a strength she didn't know she had, "I think I want to stay standing for what you're about to say."

"Emma-" Sting closed his eyes, his voice catching as he uttered her name.

Emma felt tears begin to come to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away and silently commanded herself not to do it. She had to stay strong.

"Just say it." she pushed herself off of the wall and walked over to him, her own voice breaking slightly as she fought not to cry.

He turned back to her and shook his head, pain beginning to shine in his eyes. More than anything he wanted to stop. Call a timeout. Pause that moment and delay the agony.

She stared up at him, unshed tears shining in her blue-green eyes, making them shine like twin jewels. She was silently begging him not to say what he needed to tell her. She knew.

He scoffed coldly to himself. Of course she knew. She wasn't an idiot. She had seen the signs for awhile now. How could she not? He had been keeping his distance from her. She had to have known what was coming.

"Just say it!" she repeated, her sharp voice echoing over the otherwise hushed apartment.

"I. . ." Sting didn't know if he could do it now. He had been so set. So sure. But standing there, looking down at her. . .He didn't know if he had the strength.

He scrubbed his hands over his face before raking them through his hair. As he lowered them he noticed they were shaking. From anger. From pain. Even a little bit from fear.

Because he didn't know what would happen to him if he said the words.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing himself to stay strong. He could do this. He had to do this. For her sake.

When he opened his eyes she could see he was resolved. And her heart constricted at the realization. She didn't know if she could survive this.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking." he said at last, his voice eerily quiet and calm, "Going over a lot of things in my head."

Emma remained quiet. Deep inside a very small part of her held out hope that he would stop this.

"A lot has happened over the past few months." he cleared his throat, going on, "A lot has happened to you."

"I know." she replied, adding quickly, "But, Steve, what happened to me isn't your fault."

His eyes squeezed painfully shut, a cold smile twisting his lips. Laughter began to bubble up from his throat, the sound hoarse and unnerving to her ears. It caused Emma to flinch at the noise.

He opened his eyes and shook his head, that cold smile still adorning his face, "But it is, Emma. We can kid ourselves all we want, but we both know I'm to blame for what's happened to you."

"No." Emma shook her head, going on when he tried to argue, "No! What happened to me was Goldberg's fault. And Eric's for bringing him in. In fact, everything that's happened at Impact is because of Eric. He is to blame. Not you!"

"Was it Eric's fault that I stole your passwords and got you fired?" he asked her evenly, "Hmm? You almost lost everything because of me."

Emma looked up at him and shook her head, speechless. At one time she had been angry and blamed him. But not now. What had happened, though unfortunate, was a mistake. A terrible mistake that had, thankfully, been righted. Thanks to him.

"You've been hurt so many times because of me." he told her, trying to get her see reason, "Bully Ray hit you with a bat because of me. Goldberg speared you because of me. You almost lost everything because of me!"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you saying these things to me now?" Emma demanded to know.

"Because I can't keep lying to myself!" Sting snapped, "We can't keep lying to ourselves!"

He turned away and began to pace the length of the living room, growing more and more agitated with each step.

"When I saw you laying there on the canvas," he turned back to her, his voice cracking with emotion, "Looking so pale and so still I thought. . ."

He shook his head, "If anything had happened to you I never would have forgiven myself."

"But it didn't." Emma pressed, taking a step towards him, "I'm all right."

"No thanks to me." Sting snickered coldly, "I couldn't protect you, Emma. I couldn't stop Goldberg from hurting you."

"It happened, yes." Emma paused, choosing her words very carefully, "But it wasn't your fault. You wanted me to stay away from the ring. Heck, _Eric_ wanted me to stay away from the ring. But I wouldn't listen. What happened to me falls on two people: Goldberg and myself."

"You couldn't stay away because of me." Sting muttered, looking at her pointedly.

"You were hurt." Emma regarded him lovingly, "Where else would I be?"

At her tender expression Sting felt his gut twist into knots. He had to look away, silently commanding himself to push away the rush of emotions he felt at the sight of her. He couldn't give into those emotions. He had to do this. He had to make the break now. It would be better for her in the long run.

"We can't see each other anymore." he said at last, thankful that he sounded and looked resolved.

Emma stared up at him in disbelief. He had actually said the words. She didn't think he could do it. She thought, wished, hoped, that he would look at her and be unable to say it.

But that was just a foolish dream.

"No." she whispered, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

"Yes, Emma." Sting turned back to her, hating to see the pain written on her face. Hating himself for being the one to cause it, "It's for the best."

"How can being apart be for the best?" she asked quietly, her voice filled with confusion, "How can it be for the best when I'm not with you?"

"This is the way it has to be." Sting turned away, unable to look at her any longer.

"Why?" Emma asked, upset, "Why now? Why are you suddenly so concerned about my welfare?"

"I've always been concerned about your welfare!" Sting snapped.

"You know what I mean!" Emma countered, "What's happened to make you think that we need to break up? Why are you pushing me away?!"

"Because I have to." Sting argued, "Don't you understand that this is for your own good?"

"No, I don't." Emma shook her head, "I don't see that! I'll never see that!"

She threw her hands up and scoffed, "And I don't see how you can see that, either! Why? Why are you doing this?"

"I've told you why." Sting muttered as he turned way, dragging his hand through his hair.

Emma grabbed his arm and yanked him back around to face her. He regarded her darkly, his eyes flashing with warning. But she paid it no heed because her own eyes were flashing with fire and determination.

"Then tell me again!" Emma ordered, "Tell me how you can walk away from us, from me, now. After everything we've been through. Why?"

"I've already told you." Sting repeated as he fought to control the emotions that were threatening to erupt inside of him.

"Why?!" Emma demanded.

"Because I love you!" Sting suddenly bellowed.

The room stilled, the only sounds coming from his harsh breathing. Rage filled him. Rage at himself.

He had pushed it too far. Farther than he had wanted to go. He never should have admitted that he loved her.

But the thing was, he couldn't have stopped himself no matter how much he wanted to. It was the easiest thing to say. It was the easiest thing to do. He had been in love with her for so long now.

What was it about her? How was she always able to bring out his most passionate emotions? Everything was always more intense when she was around. Especially his feelings for her.

Emma was stunned. Completely rocked to her very core. She had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could love her, too. But there was always that nagging doubt that told her it might never happen.

She found herself smiling up at him lovingly as she murmured, "I love you, too."

She started to approach him, reaching out to stroke his cheek, but he sidestepped her, giving her his back.

"No." he said, unsure if he was telling her that or himself, "It doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything." Emma replied softly as she stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

Sting's eyes closed as he felt her press her lips to his back before nuzzling against him. He took hold of her hands, meaning to untangle himself from her, but found he could only hold onto her tightly.

He needed to walk away. Now. Before he got in too deep. It would hurt, sure. For both of them. But in the long run it would be for the best. He just needed to walk away.

And yet he remained where he was, unable to pull away from her. Unable to move. Either by her will or his own, he didn't know. But he couldn't walk away. She felt too good pressed up against him like that.

"Emma." he breathed her name, his grip on her hands tightening.

"Yes, my love?" she heard him groan at her words and she knew she was winning their war of wills.

Still holding onto him she slinked under his arm to come around to his front. She leaned up on tiptoe, kissing the base of his throat where it emerged from his shirt. Her tongue darted out, lightly tracing his pulse. He groaned again and she smiled against his skin.

"Make love to me." she whispered as her hands snaked under his shirt to caress his chest. She felt the muscles jump at her touch, his heartbeat pounding against her palm.

Everything in Sting went still, his eyes flying open. He looked down at her with equal parts agony and wonder. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up, carry her into her bedroom and make love to her all night.

But he knew he couldn't do it. If he did he knew he could never let her go. And he had to. He had to let her go to keep her safe.

Even if it killed him to do so.

He started to tell her just that when she suddenly lifted his shirt, placing a kiss against his chest. His eyes slid closed again as he felt her tongue once more come out and lave over his abs. Her mouth felt so good on his skin. He wanted more. He wanted to feel her kiss him everywhere.

Teeth grit, he took hold of her shoulders and drew her away from him. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him in surprise.

"No." his voice was raspy, his breathing hard from the effort it took for him not to pull her back to him, "No. We're not doing this."

Tears began to well up in Emma's eyes. Feeling hurt and rejected she fought to pull free from his grasp.

"Let me go." she wept, struggling.

Seeing her tears was like a punch in his gut. If he could have kicked his own behind he would have.

He found himself drawing her close to him, his arms tightening around her. Emma struggled for a few more moments before she started to still. She knew she couldn't get free until he let her go anyway.

Looking up at him, quiet tears trailing down her cheeks, she asked, "What do you want from me?"

He was torn. It was such a loaded question. He knew what he wanted from her. He knew what he wanted to do with her. But it wasn't about what he wanted from her. It was what he needed her to do. He needed for her to walk away.

Because he didn't know if he had the strength to do it.

He had thought he could. He was so sure of it after going over everything in his head. So sure on the drive over to her apartment.

But standing there now, looking at her. . . At all of that beauty and fire. At all the love shining in her pretty eyes. . .

Love that was burning through his own veins for her.

This was one battle he didn't want to win.

He released her but didn't move away. Instead he leaned down and lifted her into his arms, his mouth descending onto hers in a fiery kiss. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, putting everything she had into the embrace.

Sting took hold of her thighs and wrapped them tightly around his waist. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer to his aching ridge.

Emma broke the kiss, gasping at the evidence of his arousal. They locked eyes for a heart stopping moment before he returned to her lips.

Not breaking the kiss he made his way to her bedroom, coming to stand at the foot of her bed. He took hold of her waist and laid her down on the middle of the bed. He followed her down seconds later, his body covering hers.

One hand took hold of her waist while the other snaked into her hair. Gripping it, he tilted her head back so that he could have better access to her neck. His lips rubbed against the skin he found there. Those lips soon parted and his teeth began to nip at her flesh, planting gentle, then not so gentle, bites there before he laved them with the rough texture of his tongue.

Emma turned her head to one side and planted kisses against his silky head, whispering his name as though it were a prayer, "Steve."

As always, the sound of his name on her lips undid him. He quickly turned his head and ground his mouth against hers in a soul searing kiss. He forced her lips apart and his tongue surged forward to taste her.

Emma whimpered against his mouth and arched her body towards his, desperate to touch him. To feel him touch her. Her tongue curled with his, mating and lapping. Doing everything she longed to do with her hands.

Sting continued to ravage her with his mouth, taking everything she would offer. His hands found their way to the front of her shirt and he gripped it. With savage force he yanked it open, buttons flying everywhere.

Something in him broke through his wanton needs, causing him to stop. He was afraid he might have frightened her.

But when he pulled back he found her staring up at him, breathless and her eyes only filled with desire.

He groaned at the enticing picture she created, his mouth returning to the hollow of her throat. While he kissed the skin there he removed her shirt, tossing it across the room without a look.

His lips trailed down her neck to where the tops of her breasts spilled over the lacy cups of her bra. He tasted the flesh there, marveling at it's silky texture.

Emma whimpered and took hold of his head, holding him in place. She couldn't believe the things he was doing to her. She felt so out of control, so reckless. And she didn't want it to stop.

His hands ran up her body, his thumbs brushing against a scar right above her bellybutton before passing over another a few inches above it. His mouth pulled away as he looked down at the marks in concern.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Emma began to smile gently, touched by his protective nature, "Nothing. Gallbladder surgery four years ago. I'm fine."

Sting lightly trailed his fingers over the scars. They were only about an inch in length, and had come from a simple surgery. But still, seeing the evidence that she had been hurt, even in the most common way, undid him.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the first scar, loving it with his mouth before giving the other the same attention.

Emma's head fell back against the pillow, her eyes closing in ecstasy over what his mouth was doing to her.

Sting blazed a trail up her abdomen to her bra. He sent a silent 'thank you' to whomever invented bras that opened in the front. He flicked the clasps open and parted the lacy cups, revealing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

They were beautiful. Perfect. Better than he could have dreamed of or fantasized about. And he had been doing a lot of that since meeting her.

They were creamy in color, the nipples a pale pink. And full, fitting his hands perfectly. Like they were made for his touch and his touch alone. He cupped them, marveling at their silky texture; the taunt nipples were pinpoints against his palms.

Emma shivered at the feel of his hands on her. She arched her back almost involuntarily, filling his palms more fully.

Sting's hands slide to her tiny waist and he held firm as he lowered his head, one taunt nipple enveloped by his hungry mouth. He suckled it eagerly, his tongue lapping at it before placing a gentle bite against it.

Emma whimpered at the sensation it caused, her hands running across his back and her eyes closing in ecstasy.

He blazed a heated trail across one breast to the valley between. He placed a searing kiss there before giving the other the same loving treatment.

Emma's legs began to shift impatiently beneath his own and her hands went to the waistband of his jeans. She tugged at it eagerly, wanting to feel his skin everywhere.

Sting reluctantly tore his mouth from her breast. He gave her another scorching kiss before rising from the bed. He tore his shirt from his body, Emma's eyes isntantly going to his broad chest and abs. He was so beautiful. She had always thought so.

He quickly flicked open the button of his jeans and rolled down the zipper. Kicking off his shoes, he swiftly shoved his jeans and boxers off of his hips and down his legs, stepping out of them.

He straightened and returned to the bed, coming back to her side. Emma's eyes widened as they focused onto his massive length, which sprang hard and erect from his body. She instantly felt nervous and intimidated at the sight of it.

Then all thoughts fled from her mind as his hands found their way to the front of her jeans. She found she could only look on in muted wonder as he unbuttoned them, sending her zipper down.

Their eyes locked and held in a long, steady gaze as she lifted her hips and helped him remove the denim and silk beneath. Sting tossed the clothing away, his eyes locked on her body. Her stomach was flat, her tiny waist flaring to rounded hips. Her legs were toned, yet not muscular.

Emma, feeling self-conscious, pressed her thighs together, trying to hide her femininity from his gaze.

"Don't." he said, his voice hard and strained with desire, "You're so beautiful. . ."

She looked up at him, her legs falling open practically of their own volition. Sting stretched out above her, his mouth returning to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him. She shivered at the feel of his arousal against her belly.

They rolled over, her on top, as their passionate kiss intensified. He could feel her breasts pressed against his chest, the friction created there like a spark to dry kindling.

She leaned down, nuzzling the scar along his jaw before placing kisses against it. When her tongue came out to trace it's length Sting's eyes slammed shut and he groaned. Gripping the back of her head he buried his own mouth against her shoulder where it met her neck. There he licked and gentle bit the skin he found there.

But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted inside her. Now.

He swiftly rolled them over, her beneath him. Kissing her passionately, his hands trailed down to take hold of her legs. Holding them firmly he wrapped them around his waist before clamping down on her hips. Unable to wait, his control slipping, he surged into her with a groan.

Emma's eyes widened before painfully squeezing shut. Gripping the sheets beneath her, she turned her head to the side and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Two tears escaped from beneath her lashes, trailing down her cheeks. Her body began to tremble.

Everything in Sting went still as realization hit him like a steel chair. He pulled back and looked down at her in alarm. His own eyes closed, only in anger. If he could have, he would have kicked his own behind.

He should have known. Everything in him told him that she was innocent. He should have known just how innocent.

He opened his eyes and turned his full attention back to her. While he was confused and curious about her virginity he pushed that aside for the time being. He'd find out the reason behind that later. At that moment all he cared about was righting such an awful error. And quickly before she began to panic. He couldn't bear it if that happened.

"Emma." he called out to her, his voice shaking with emotion, "Emma, look at me."

He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. Nuzzling the side of her face, he murmured lovingly, "Please, please look at me. Look at me, sweetheart."

She opened her eyes and turned to him, frightened. It tore through him to see her that way but he knew they had to go on. He vowed to himself that he would do whatever he could to take that fear away and replace it with ecstasy. He wanted to see that passion, that fire, come back to her eyes.

"Trust me." he murmured to her as he took her hands and laid them across his shoulders.

Emma swallowed nervously. She tried to will herself to calm down, but still she trembled. She wanted to do this. She wanted to make love with him. But she was just so afraid. . .

Sting felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her sign of trust. It meant more to him than he could say.

He partially pulled out of her, causing her to flinch and air to hiss from between her clenched teeth. He offered a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down to gently push her legs farther apart.

He rose up on an elbow and reached down, carefully parting the holds that hid her femininity. He pressed his lower body against her sensitive nub and slid into her.

At first there was only more pain. Emma's eyes slammed shut and she bit her lip. She didn't know if she could do this anymore. She felt so lost and hopeless. Like such a failure.

He thrust again and suddenly the sensation changed, pain instantly turning to pleasure. Her eyes flew opened and she stared up at him in surprise. It came again and she gasped, a moan escaping her lips. He thrust again and unexpectedly desire came back to her threefold. It began to pool deep in her belly, building up in her lower region and spreading throughout her body.

He thrust again and she found herself clutching at his shoulders, meeting him. Soon they were rocking together in unison, their passion building and threatening to explode.

They climbed higher and higher. So close. So very close. . .

Her head arched back and her eyes closed. Suddenly the most beautiful smile he had ever seen erupted from her as she reached her climax.

"Yes!" he couldn't help but howl in triumph.

He thrust again, and again. Once more and he soon joined her in his own sweet release. Panting for breath he began to come down from his own high. As he looked down he found her staring up at him, trembling and her eyes filled with absolute awe and unshed tears.

He eased out of her as gently as he could, but still she flinched and her breath caught. He fell to his side and gathered her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. Emma laid her head upon his chest, her arm falling across his waist. He could still feel her shaking.

He began to stroke her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Though on the outside he appeared calm and quiet, inside he was rocked to his very core.

He'd had sex more times than he could count. But what they'd just experienced. . .That was more than just sex. Even more than making love. That was something deep and profound. Something he couldn't even describe.

It actually scared him at the intensity of it.

He forced himself to put those feelings aside and concentrate on her. He knew that right now she needed him. Especially now after what he had learned about her.

Without a word he eased from the bed and went into the bathroom. Emma watched after him, sadness pooling in the pit of her stomach. At that moment she began to doubt herself. What if she had been bad at it? What if he hadn't enjoyed it?

But her trepidation was put on hold as she watched him return, a washcloth in hand. She didn't know what to say or do so she closed her eyes and waited.

She was surprised when she felt him lift the sheet and gently ease her sore thighs apart. A second later she felt him tenderly washing away the evidence of their lovemaking and her virginity. The act was so considerate that it brought tears to her eyes. She felt Sting press a kiss to her forehead as he eased off of the bed and return to the bathroom.

She managed to blink her tears away by the time he returned to the bed and pulled her close to him, holding her tightly, securely, against him. He rubbed her back reassuringly and it wasn't long before her shaky subsided. She hadn't said a word though. Nor did she look up at him.

He wanted to look into her eyes and tell her. . .there was so much he wanted to tell her. But he kept silent. They would have plenty of time to talk in the morning.

"Sleep, sweetheart." he murmured to her as he brushed another kiss against her head, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

His words seemed to calm her and she finally allowed her eyes to close.

Sting looked out into the darkness, his lips against her forehead. He listened as her breathing eventually grew deep and even in sleep.

Brushing a kiss against her temple he slowly eased back to look down at her sleep filled features. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"I love you." he murmured, the words filling him with both joy and pain.


	22. Part TwentyTwo: The Morning After

Sunlight filtered in through the window, casting the bedroom in a soft glow. It gave everything a golden shine, making it look fresh and brand new.

Sting laid in Emma's bed, arms folded behind his head. His eyes were locked on the woman sleeping peacefully beside him, watching her silently as he had done so for hours now.

Just looking at her caused a pain to go through his chest and squeeze around his heart. He was never one to wax poetic. He had always thought such romantic notions where the stuff of trashy romance novels.

But to see her, so open and beautiful, well he finally understood what people meant when they said they saw something so beautiful that it actually made them physically hurt.

She was on her side, facing him. Her features were calm and serene in sleep. Her hands were cupped under her cheek in a scene that demonstrated just how innocent she was.

And loving.

And trusting.

And passionate.

And he knew he had to break her heart.

He hated himself at that moment. Honest to goodness hated himself for what he knew he had to do.

But he couldn't do it now. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her yet.

He continued to watch her, knowing that he could never get his fill. Knowing that this was the picture that would haunt him when he went to bed alone every night.

The light had fallen on her hair, the natural strands of gold and red glowing in her mass of brown curls. Her long black lashes rested against her cheeks, curling upward. Her mouth still looked a little swollen from his kisses, her lips just begging for him to kiss them again.

Her creamy skin, glowing slightly in the light, appeared warm and inviting. Lust began to curl deep in his gut at the thought. He knew from experience just how warm and inviting it truly was.

The sheet had slipped ever so slightly, giving him a teasing view of the swell of her breasts. Just the tiniest hint. More than anything he wanted to take hold of that sheet and yank it off, giving him more of an eyeful of her sweet body.

But he remained where he was. It was pleasure and pain to just lay there and watch her without touching her. His own self inflicted torment for what he was going to have to do to her later on.

Emma let out a sleepy sigh, her eyes fluttered open. The blue-green depths slowly began to focus.

And the first thing that came into her view was Sting. He was laying in her bed, watching her silently. His face revealed nothing of what he had been thinking.

It took her a minute to process what had happened the night before. When it did she felt a blush begin to rise up in her cheeks.

She hadn't dreamt it. They had made love last night. Something she had dreamed about, fantasies about, for so long now. And it had finally become real.

But all the dreams and fantasies hadn't prepared her for the reality. And they certainly didn't compare to what she had experienced last night.

She found herself studying him, something she hadn't really had a chance to do the night before. He continued to watch her quietly without movement. Allowing her to look her fill.

He was so beautiful. She had always thought so but it had never hit her more fully until right then and there.

His shoulders were broad. His arms were carelessly slung behind his head, the muscles bunched and looking the picture of strength. His upper body was amazing. His pecks were perfect and surprising comfortable to lay on, as she had learned last night.

Due to the tights he wore she hadn't had a chance to really see his abs in years. And to see them now. . .they were even better than she remembered. Each one was well defined and at that moment she had visions of leaning over and loving them with lips and tongue.

But she remained were she was, not finished with her long, slow appraisal of his body.

His torso was a V leading down to narrowed hips. The sheet was laying dangerously low on his hips, giving her clear view of his bellybutton and a tantalizing peek of the skin below.

He looked the picture of casual ease and complete sexiness as he laid relaxed in her bed.

It was still a wonder to her. Someone like him, so wonderful, so. . .amazing being interested in her.

No, scratch that. _Loving_ her. Because he did. He had declared it, yelled it to the heavens. It was still so unbelievable. But it had happened.

He loved _her_.

Feeling shy and self-conscious, she took hold of the sheet that covered her and raised it a few more inches. Not quite able to meet his gaze, she murmured, "Good morning."

He wanted to fling the sheet away, lay her back against the bed and kiss her all over. He wanted to make love to her in the morning light.

But instead he laid where he was and answered softly, "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

Her eyes darted to him, a hint of. . .guilt, perhaps, coming to them. But it disappeared just as quickly, being replaced with a smooth mask of blasé.

"Fine." Emma replied nonchalantly, glancing down to where her fingers smoothed over invisible wrinkles in the sheet.

"No pain?" he asked, his tone still gentle, "No soreness?"

Emma offered a weak laugh and shook her head, "I'm fine. Why would I be sore?"

Sting propped himself on his elbow and regarded her evenly, though still tender, "So you're going to pretend you weren't a virgin last night? Or is the blood on the sheets supposed to be because you're on your period?"

Emma's blush turned a darker shade of red, her eyes widening in surprise. She glanced down and groaned inwardly at the sign of her virginity marking the sheet.

_So much for being a woman of the world_, she sighed, embarrassed.

"Oh. That." she glanced up at him through her lashes and bit her lip.

To her surprise he didn't look shocked or even uncomfortable. He just continued to watch her, concerned.

"Come here, silly." he murmured as he pulled her to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

Emma went willingly, laying her head against his chest. Her arm circled his waist and she closed her eyes, listening to the beating of his heart.

"I wish you would have told me." he replied after planting a kiss against her temple, "There were things I could have done-I would have been gentler."

"I thought it you knew. . ." she ducked her head and shrugged, self-conscious, "Well I thought maybe you wouldn't have made love to me."

"Sweetheart, wild horses couldn't have kept me from making love to you last night." Sting chuckled and he felt better when he heard her join in.

They were silent for several minutes, just enjoying the morning after.

At last he spoke up, a hint of uneasiness in his voice, "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head and looked up at him, reassuring, "I'm okay. Just a little sore."

She lightly trailed her fingers over his chest and bit her lip, hesitant, "How are you?"

After she asked the question she slammed her eyes shut and cringed. How stupid could she be? What did she expect him to say? Fine? He'd had better? Ugh, she was not good at this. She felt like such a naïve little fool.

Sting felt his stomach clench. He understood exactly what she was getting at. More so, what she was actually worried about.

He swiftly rolled them over, her underneath, and he stared deeply into her eyes. She looked up at him in surprise, a silent question on her lips.

"You," he said, honest and sincere, "Are beautiful. And last night was amazing. You are amazing, Emma."

As his words broke through her doubts Emma began to beam brightly up at him. It was enough to break his heart at the beauty of it.

He lowered his head, parting her lips in a passionate kiss. One she eagerly returned.

As it ended he rolled back onto his side, pulling her securely against him. He began to trail his fingers through her hair, silent questions rising up in him.

Emma glanced up at him, noticing his pensive expression.

"What are you thinking about?" she eventually dared herself to ask.

He looked down at her and shook his head, curious, "I was just wondering if you spent your time locked away in some ivory tower somewhere. Or were all the guys in your hometown just blind or stupid?"

Emma understood what he was referring to. She bit her lip and glanced down at his chest, her fingers lightly tracing it.

"There's no huge drama behind it." she explained, offering a hint of a smile, "No vows of chastity over a great, lost love.

"I've had boyfriends." she told him, "And they were all very nice. And perfect gentlemen."

She glanced up at him and sighed, "And nothing seemed to ever come from the relationships except, maybe, good friendships.

"And I always promised myself that I would never. . ." she ducked her head and blushed, "Give myself to a man unless I was in love with him."

She looked up and offered an embarrassed smile, "I guess I'm just a little too old fashioned."

She really was one in a million. There weren't many people in that day and age who would hang on to their beliefs so fiercely. He admired her for that. And he was glad for it. He was glad she had waited. That he had been her first. It made him feel something primal. Like she fully belonged to him.

"You've never been in love before?" he inquired.

Emma shook her head, her eyes growing distant, "I used to think that there was something wrong with me."

She smiled faintly, self-conscious, "Like maybe I was incapable of falling in love."

She looked up at him, growing poignant, "I know now that I just hadn't met the right man."

Sting felt like he had been punched in the gut.

He brushed her hair off her face and pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes.

"God, you're beautiful." he found himself saying, earning a grin from her.

"So are you." she told him, adding lovingly, "I've always thought so."

"Beautiful?" Sting scoffed jokingly, "Men aren't supposed to be beautiful, Em."

"Well you are." she replied with a teasing smile, "Ruggedly beautiful. Manly beautiful."

"Darn right." Sting murmured before pressing another kiss to her temple.

His lips trailed downward, over her brow and nose. They found their designated place at her lips and the pair shared another long, searing kiss.

"Roll over." he suddenly breathed against her mouth.

Emma looked up at him questioningly, but did as he asked. She rolled onto her stomach, her arms sliding under the pillow under her head. She turned her head to the side, looking up at him with curiosity from out the corner of her eye. What did he have up his sleeve now?

He slid the sheet low on her hips, the linen barely covering her behind and he straddled her. Leaning over, he began to slowly, gently, run his hands up and over her back; kneading the flesh there.

Emma let out a moan of delight, burying her face into the pillow. The man truly did have magic fingers.

Sting continued to run his hands from the base of her spine up to her shoulders, gently working the tired muscles. He took another rotation before his hands came to a stop, memories clouding his mind.

"I'm sorry." he replied quietly, his fingers once again gently trailing over her back, "I lost my temper at the spa and I. . .I'm sorry, Emma."

Emma raised her head and blinked, surprised. Spa?

Realization hit her at that moment. She had forgotten all about that considering it had been so many months ago and so much had happened since then.

She heard the shame in his voice and instantly forgave him. She knew he hadn't meant to hurt her then.

Glancing over her shoulder at him she replied sincerely, "It's all right."

He leaned down and placed a warm kiss against one of her shoulder blades. As he righted himself he began to soothingly run his hands up and over her back. The skin beneath his palms soon grew warm to his touch.

He leaned down again, planting a single kiss on each of her birthmarks.

"Do you know you have these here?" he asked against her skin.

"Yeah." she looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, "I have seen them before, you know."

"I think these are where your wings must have been." he murmured as his fingers traced the marks.

He straightened and continued the massage. It wasn't long before she was practically purring under his expert touch.

"I think you have a career to fall back on if this whole wrestling thing doesn't work out." Emma chuckled, her eyes lazily sliding open for a moment before closing once more.

"Good to know." Sting snickered.

He continued to work her back for a few more minutes before shuffling down further on her legs. He began to grin as he took hold of the sheet and lowered it, revealing her sweet little behind for his gaze.

Emma's cheeks began to warm and she had to bury her head in the pillow in embarrassment.

"You don't have to do that." her muffled voice came up from the cushion.

"Just relax and enjoy." was all the wrestler would say as he began to work the flesh on her buttocks.

A moan, this time one in pain, escaped her as he began to massage the backs and insides of her thighs.

Sting paused, guilt coming over him at that moment. He leaned over and pressed a kiss against the small of her back before righting himself and continuing to work the aching muscles.

He worked surely and diligently, massaging her thighs. He continued to work until her whimpers of pain became hums of contentment.

"Roll over." he murmured as he climbed off of her and helped her turn around.

Emma opened her eyes and lifted her head, slowly going to her back. She looked up to find him staring at her, his brown gaze locked on her body.

She bit her lip and turned her head to the side, closing her eyes in embarrassment. It was one thing to make love with him in the dark, but to lay there, so open and exposed, in the bright light of day. . .it made her feel self-conscious. He was used to being around the perfect bodies of the Knockouts. How could she hope to compete?

"Hey." his voice called out, breaking through her thoughts, "Look at me, Emma."

Emma slowly opened her eyes and glanced over at him with uncertainty. At the sight of him her eyes opened more fully and she gave him her complete attention.

He was staring deeply into her eyes, the expression on his face was one of absolute need and approval. Before she could speak he leaned down and ravaged her mouth, kissing her hungry.

Sting eventually pulled back and shook his head in wonder, "So beautiful. And you don't even know it."

While he would have liked nothing more than to ravage every inch of her body he knew she was still feeling some soreness and he was bound and determined to take it away.

He once again straddled her legs, at the knees, and began to work on the tired muscles of her thighs.

Emma's eyes slide closed and she let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her. He was just as thorough as he worked out the kinks and aches in her inner thighs.

Maybe a little too thorough. His hands slide over the insides of her legs over and over again, coming dangerously close to her most sensitive flesh but never touching it. It began to turn maddening, how he was so close and yet so far.

Soon Emma began to shift restlessly on the bed, eager to feel his touch. She wanted to feel him inside her again.

He made another frustrating sweep and Emma began to whimper, opening her eyes and silently begging him.

"Steve." she finally breathed, arching towards his seeking hands, "Please. Please."

"I think you're still a little too sore to go another round." he offered her a heart melting grin, "But there are a lot of other things we can do."

Emma felt her own smile come to light as he leaned over, covering her body with his. . .

.

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.

.

They eventually found their way to the shower. She stood in front, arms hanging low on his hips and her head cushioned on his chest. She let out a content sigh and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him.

To think she had been so afraid. And of what? Sure, there had been pain at first. But after that it had been amazing. Incredible. Her little romantic heart was just about ready to burst from joy.

Sting looked down at her, frowning. She just looked so happy and at ease. Just the sight of her contented expression twisted his guts in knots.

He needed to talk to her. Soon. He just hoped he had the strength to do it.

They stayed in the shower for a few more minutes before he reached out and turned off the water. Emma opened her eyes and pulled back, watching as he stepped out. He reached out a hand for her, helping her out, before turning his back to her to grab a couple of towels.

Emma watched him, a frown beginning to form on her own lips. He was starting to pull away. She could feel it.

He handed her a towel, his expression guarded, and began to dry himself off. Emma did so, as well, quickly. She wanted to get out of the bathroom. Now. It was suddenly starting to feel confining.

She led the way back to bedroom, grabbing her robe and putting it on. As she turned back around her frown began to deepen.

He was dressing fully, even putting on his socks and shoes. She turned away, tightening the belt on her robe, her mind racing.

"So how about some BLTs?" she asked brightly as she once again faced him.

Sting slowly turned to her and nodded, his eyes thoughtful as he murmured, "Sounds good."

Emma walked past him and into her kitchen. She began to pull out the bacon, lettuce and tomatoes needed for the sandwiches. As she began to fry the bacon he entered the living room and drew to a stop, watching her.

By all intents and purposes, this should have been the most casual thing in the world. Making love the night before and now getting ready to sit down to an intimate lunch between lovers.

So why did he instead feel like it was going to be his last meal.

Clearing his throat, Sting stepped into the kitchen, "Need any help?"

"Sure." Emma replied quietly, her eyes locked on the cooking bacon as though it needed her full attention, "Could you get started slicing the tomatoes and lettuce, please?"

"Sure thing." Sting rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and got to work.

It wasn't long until the vegetables were chopped, the bacon was cooked and the sandwiches were assembled.

As Sting and Emma took a seat on either side of her dining table they looked up, locking eyes. Both looked so sad, lost and unsure. Emma took a bite of her sandwich, realizing that the argument from the night before hadn't ended. It had just been postponed.

Sting slowly pushed his plate away, his eyes locked on his uneaten sandwich. His mouth was a slash across his face, his eyes narrowed with something unreadable.

Emma swallowed her bite, the sandwich feeling and tasting like a hard, bitter lump as it made it's way down her throat and into her stomach.

She had foolishly hoped that after their night together he would have realized that he couldn't be without her. It was what she would have written in one of her stories.

But it wasn't a story. It was real life.

And he was leaving her.

"Do you think I'm not afraid? Do you?" Emma jumped right in, her voice shaking with emotion, "Look, I understand how frightening this can be. This thing between us. . .It's powerful. It's more powerful than I would have ever thought. I can understand why you'd be afraid to give into it-"

"That's not what this is about." Sting rose to his feet and shook his head, "And you know it, Emma."

She, too, stood. Hands braced on the end of the table she leaned over, staring intently up at him. Sting found he couldn't look at her any longer. He backed away from the table and once again shook his head, raking his hands through his hair.

"I never wanted to hurt you." he offered a weak laugh, the sound hoarse and unpleasant to her ears, "But that's all I seem to do when it comes to you."

He looked away, exhaling, "This is for the best, Emma. In the long run, if I can get you out of your contract and back to your old life-"

"My old life?" Emma repeated, chuckling coldly.

He looked up to find her rounding the table and approaching him, unrelenting.

"My life has always been about control. Never letting anything or anyone get close enough to hurt me. But falling in love. . ."

She paused and shook her head, "No, correction. Falling in love with _you_ was never controlled."

Sting cast his eyes to the ground, jaw tense, as he took in her words.

"I've always been afraid to take that step. Make that leap." Emma confided in him, "I was always afraid to give away my heart because I was so terrified of being hurt."

She smiled sadly, "Some people say it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. But I always thought the opposite. I would rather never be in love, so I would never have to be hurt."

"Do you think I want this?" Sting suddenly demanded, eyes flashing as he pointed back towards her hallway, "Do you think I don't want to take you back into that bedroom and make love to you all day and all night and forget all of this happened?"

"You can." Emma replied softly, heart in her eyes.

"I can't forget!" Sting bellowed, the noise causing her to flinch.

Raking a hand through his hair again, he started to laugh humorlessly, "You don't get it, Emma. You've been hurt, twice now, because of me."

Determination, and a sense of finality, came over him as he added, "I won't let it happen again. And if I have to let you go to keep that from happening, I'll do it."

"Don't I get a say so in any of this?" Emma questioned, her own anger coming to light, "How dare you! How dare you step in and try to control my life!"

Some of the fight left her, being replaced with a deep sadness, "I love you. I want to be with you."

It was all he could do not to grab her and hold her. The need to do so was so strong in him that he had to fiercely keep the desire in check.

"I used to say that writing was my one great passion but that's not true anymore." Emma stated lovingly, "Because you are too, Steve. You make me feel alive."

She began to laugh weakly, tears coming to her eyes, "You brought me out of my shell, kicking and screaming. You let me be who I am. Everything I am, all my happiness, all my silliness and all my fear. . .I knew I could put it all out there and you wouldn't laugh at me. Or judge me. You let me be. . . well, me."

Pain crossed her features, despite how much she tried not to let it show, "You didn't just break through my walls. You destroyed them. You took all of my defenses away. And now you're just going to walk away?"

Her words, so beautiful, so painful, went through him like a knife. More than anything he wanted to take it all back and hold her in his arms. But he knew he couldn't. He knew it had to be this way. It was the only way he could think of to keep her safe.

He would focus all of his pain, all of his anger, onto Bischoff and Immortal and Goldberg and he would win. And when he did Dixie would get her company back and Emma would be free.

She could go back to California and the bookstore and her old life. She could go back to writing.

"It has to be this way." was the only thing he could say.

Emma couldn't believe he was still going through with this. How could he after what they had just shared?

"So what was this?" she demanded as she motioned between them, "Huh?"

Her voice broke as her pain became evident, "So you figured, 'Hey, how about one for the road?' Was that it? 'Let's try her out once before tossing her aside.'"

"You don't know what this is doing to me." he rasped, his eyes filled with pain, "You don't know how hard it was for me to reach this decision."

She reached out and placed her hand against his chest, over his heart. At her touch Sting's eyes slammed shut, anguish washing over him. When he finally opened his eyes and dared to look down at her, he found her staring up at him with love and a profound sadness.

"I know you by heart." she whispered, a world of conviction in her words.

He backed away from her, each step like a knife in his gut.

"Then you know why I have to do this." he told her, his voice raw with emotion.

Without another word he turned and left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.

Emma stared at the closed door, silent tears beginning to trail down her cheeks.


	23. Part TwentyThree: Love

Sting stalked the back hallways of the Impact Zone with all the semblance of a panther hunting it's prey. He kept to the shadows, ever vigilant, ever on the lookout for Bischoff or the rest of Immortal.

Especially Goldberg.

An evil smile crept across his lips at the thought of the other man. Oh, he had something planned for Goldberg all right. All he needed was time and the right opportunity.

He started to slink past an open corridor when a sound caught his ear, making him freeze on the spot.

He closed his eyes, his features twisting in pain at the sweet sound of the full belly laugh that wafted from down the hall. He loved that sound. Maybe too much.

Sting's eyes opened and he found himself searching the hallway until he spotted Emma standing a few feet away. She was talking with So Cal Val and Jeremy Borash, a bright smile on her lips.

At that moment he wanted nothing more than to go to her, take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. But he knew that he couldn't. He had to stay away for her own good.

No matter how much it hurt him to do so.

"Having second thoughts?" a voice sounded from behind him.

Sting turned around, instantly going into Insane Icon mode, "Tara, my dear. Fancy meeting you here. Hey, that rhymed. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it."

"Cut the act, Sting." Tara deadpanned, in no mood to play.

Sting leaned in closer, flashing his pearly whites at her, "Who says it's an act?"

Tara regarded him evenly, clearly annoyed.  
Realizing that he wasn't going to get a reaction out of her, the Icon straightened, instantly sobering.

"What?" he asked her quietly.

Tara shook her head in disbelief, "I just can't believe you could do it. I mean, out of all the guys here I thought _you_ at least would have some kind of honor. Some shred of decency."

Sting cast his eyes to the ground, raking a hand through his hair, "So I take it Emma told you."

"Told. Cried on my shoulder." Tara noticed how he flinched at that, "Same difference, right?"

Sting looked up at her, the Icon growing annoyed, "What do you want, Tara?"

"I just want to know why." the Knockout answered, "Why did you-how could you do it?"

"You don't understand." Sting replied quietly, "And to be honest with you, it's none of your business."

Tara blinked, surprised. Her eyes narrowed and, without another word, she turned on her heels and started to march away.

She had only gone a few steps, though, when she spun back around and stormed back up to him.

"Maybe it should be my business." she hissed at him, "Maybe somebody needs to knock some sense into you."

Sting raised his arms up at his sides, his face revealing nothing, "Go ahead. Knock yourself out. You would be doing me a favor, seeing how I can't do it to myself."

Tara shook her head, "I don't understand. You love her."

"That's why I'm doing this!" Sting snarled, "Because I love her! And this is the only way I know of to keep her safe!"

Tara sighed and bowed her head, milling over his words.

When she at last looked up at him her expression was softer and filled with understanding, "I think she would be safer with you."

And at that she turned and left him.

Sting tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he tried to regain control of his emotions. He needed to stay focused. Especially considering his plans for tonight. Right now that had to be the only thing that mattered.

He'd think about the rest later.

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.

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.

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Emma approached Eric's office. With each step her trepidation grew by leaps and bounds. This was the first time she had been back since her attack over two months ago. She hated to admit it, but she was actually a little afraid of what Eric might have had in store for her.

She reached out, hand trembling as she took hold of the doorknob. At the sight of it she paused, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

"Don't let them do this to you." she snapped at herself, mentally building up her armor.

After a few moments she opened her eyes, at once set and determined. Not wasting any time she opened the door and surged into the room.

Eric looked up from his desk, cell phone at his ear.

"I'll call you back." he told the person on the other end before hanging up the call and slowly rising to his feet.

Emma met his look head on, her chin high. He regarded her quietly, his expression one of. . .dare she say uncertainty. That was definitely a look she wasn't used to from him.

"How are you feeling?" Eric questioned as he rounded his desk and leaned against the front of it.

"My concussion is gone." Emma stated, folding her arms across her chest, "And my rib healed weeks ago. No thanks to your newest monster."

She heard the door open behind her before a familiar voice chuckled darkly, "Wow. This one does have a mouth on her."

Emma swallowed, her fear returning three fold. She turned around and watched as Goldberg closed the door loudly, leaning back against it. He crossed his arms over his massive chest and grinned down at her, clearly loving that she knew she was trapped in the office with him.

Involuntarily she took a step back, slipping behind a chair.

"Don't worry." Goldberg assured her, his voice low and soothing, "If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it all ready."

Emma swallowed, her eyes going to Eric for some sort of help. But even he appeared nervous. Could it be that even he couldn't control his monster?

She turned back to Goldberg and shook her head, "I don't understand. I remember watching you when I was a teen. You were amazing. You were a hero for so many people. So many fans looked up to you. I just don't understand how you could have changed so much."

For a second the massive wrestler's smug expression vanished. In it's place was a spark of something Emma couldn't quite explain. Regret? Shame?

But it was quickly replaced as that cocky smile of his slipped back into place.

"I guess we all can't be the hero your precious Sting is." he quipped, a bit of a bite coming to his voice as he said the other man's name.

"Anyway," Eric interjected, wanting to get back to the business at hand, "Immortal is going to close the show."

He began to smirk, "We might as well treat those idiots out there since they have to sit through mediocrity."

Emma rolled her eyes but held her tongue.

He cast his eyes on her and added, "And you're going to be with us."

"Why?" Emma asked darkly.

Eric began to smile that megawatt smile of his, "To show the fans that you've let bygones be bygones."

"Nobody is going to buy that, Eric." Emma told him, "And if you think I'm going to placate you and the rest of Immortal-"

"Well you're going to have to suck it up and do it." Eric muttered, his annoyance growing, "Because you don't have a choice."

"Like hell I don't!" Emma snapped, all of her control, all of her pent up anger, finally breaking, "I'm tired of this, Eric. I am so tired of all of this! I'm sick and tired of everyone trying to control my life! I've had it! I'm done!"

She started to storm towards the door, muttering over her shoulder as she did so, "I don't care what you do to me. Fire me. Steal my stories. I don't care anymore. I'm done."

She started to reach for the door when Goldberg slipped in front of her. He folded his arms and looked down at her with a smirk. Emma instantly took a step back, hating that he made her feel so afraid.

"It's not you who you should be worried about." Eric called after her.

Emma's eyes narrowed as she turned around and demanded, "What do you mean by that?"

Bischoff began to smirk, "Oh, Emma dear, you should know by now that your actions don't just affect you. They can affect everyone around you. Like, say, your good friends Tara and Brooke. And Tori. You wouldn't want to see them out of a job now would you?"

Emma felt everything inside her go still. She found she could only look at him in disbelief.

"Fine." she whispered, "Tell me when you need me and I'll go out to the ring with you."

She turned on her heels and went back to the door. Goldberg shook his head, having no intentions of letting her pass.

"Go ahead and let her go." Eric called to him, grinning, "I'm finished with her for now."

Goldberg shrugged at him and stepped aside. Emma brushed passed him and threw open the door, surging out into the hallway.

Head down, she made her way through the corridor. She fought hard to keep the turmoil she was feeling at bay. But it all kept spinning around and around inside of her. Eric. Goldberg. The chance that her friends could lose their jobs.

And she still hadn't seen _him_ yet.

She hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since that wonderful night and then horrible day.

Truth be told, she didn't know how she felt about it. The anger had subsided, fading away. In it's place was now a deep seeded hurt and sadness.

She didn't believe he had used her. She had only said that because she had been hurt and angry. It had taken some time, but she had finally realized that it had hurt him to leave her as much as it had hurt to be left. But still. . .

She still couldn't believe he could walk away from her. She would have never been able to walk away from him. Especially after their amazing night tonight. And that next day. . .it had started off wonderfully. He had been so loving, so attentive.

She drew to a stop and sighed, feeling a little lost.

Would it ever stop hurting? Would she ever be able to get past this and feel. . .anything besides pain again?

Suddenly the sounds of banging and someone calling out broke through her thoughts. Emma blinked, looking around in confusion. She turned and noticed a metal door a few feet away. She heard it rattle, a voice calling behind it for someone to open up.

She promptly hurried over to the door opened it, stepping back to let a rain soaked Kurt Angle enter the building.

"Hey thanks, Emma." he told her with a grin as he lowered the hood of his gray, zip-up jacket, "I went out to my car to grab my gear and the damned door closed behind me."

"No problem." she told him with a smile, "I'm just glad I was around to hear you."

He gave her a nod and continued on down the hall to his locker room.

As she watched after him she noticed Abyss coming from the opposite direction. At the sight of him she felt her spirits lift if just a little.

Abyss spotted her and the pair quickly made their way over to one another.

"How are you doing?" the behemoth wrestler quietly asked her.

Emma shrugged, "I've been better."

She shook her head and laughed good-naturedly, "Enough about me. I want to know how you're doing. I know you have a match with Bully Ray coming up at Bound for Glory. I. . ."

She shrugged before placing a hand on his arm, "I just want you to be careful, Chris."

He gave her a look, "You do know what a Monster's Ball match is, right?"

Emma shivered, "I do. I just want you to _try_ and be careful."

He gave her a small smile at that, "There's no fun in that."

Emma couldn't help but smile. He'd never change.

Without a word she reached up and gave him a tight hug. Abyss blinked, surprised by that. Slowly his arms went around her and he lifted her up into his arms for a warm embrace.

More than anything he wanted his little friend to be happy.

.

.

.

.

.

Eric, Goldberg and the rest of Immortal soon emerged from Eric's office and began to make their way down the hall. Emma spotted them and promptly fell into step beside them.

"Nice to see you've decided to join us." Eric grinned down at her.

"You didn't exactly give me a choice, now did you?" Emma offered him a sarcastically sweet smile.

"Watch yourself, Emma." Eric warned her, "You're walking on very thin ice."

"I don't care anymore, Eric." Emma countered, "Because in four weeks all of this, and you, were be nothing more than a bad memory."

Eric's grin quickly evaporated.

"Keep up." he snarled at the rest of Immortal as his pace quickened.

Emma's short legs hurried to keep up, but her smile was now genuine. It felt wonderful telling that pompous, conceited cretin off.

They were soon emerging from the curtain and stepping out onto the ramp. As Immortal's music played out over the arena they walked down to the ring.

Emma followed after, noticing that a couple of the fans were smiling at her and welcoming her back. It felt good to know that they cared. She returned their smiles and nodded before entering the ring. She kept a few feet away from the others and crossed her arms, looking at Eric with narrowed eyes.

Eric turned to her and, through a row of grinning white teeth, snarled, "Smile. Act like you enjoy being around us."

Emma flashed a clearly phony smile that earned a glare from Bischoff. She didn't care, though. He might make her come down there but she wasn't about to pretend to be happy about it.

Eric ordered Christy to hand him a mic. Snatching it from her hand he returned to the center of the ring, once again flashing that cheesy grin at the crowd.

"Well, well, well." Eric looked around, taking in the boos from the crowd with a smirk, "Look who we have here. Actually, scratch that. Look who we don't have here."

He looked around, seemingly searching for someone. He bumped the arms of some of the other Immortal members and they, too, began to look.

"I see Immortal." Eric snickered, "And I see Goldberg."

Goldberg began to grin.

"But," Bischoff continued, "I don't see good ole Stinger."

He turned to the other guys and questioned, "Have you guys seen good ole Stinger?"

Immortal shook their heads, feinting confusion.

"I ain't seen that coward anywhere." Bully Ray spoke up.

"So where are you, Stinger?" Eric smirked into the camera, "Huh? Too scared to come out and fight?

"Or maybe. . ." Eric's Cheshire grin began to grow, "Maybe you've finally wised up. Maybe you've finally realized that you can't beat us. Hell, you've never beat Goldberg. So maybe the so called 'Icon' finally did the smart thing and just walked away."

"Isn't that right, Emma?" the Impact owner asked her pointedly.

Emma glared up at him before plastering that obviously fake smile across her face and cooing with as much believability as a B Horror Movie actress, "Of course, Eric."

Eric paused, unhappy with her performance. But the smile was right back on his lips as he went on, "I mean, even Sting's own former girlfriend is now backing Immortal. And where is the supposed Icon? Probably hiding up in the rafters somewhere like the coward he is."

He passed the microphone over to Goldberg. Before the enormous wrestler could even speak the crowd's boos seemed to grow.

"Yeah keep it up, you pieces of crap." Goldberg scoffed at them, seemingly unaffected by their taunts, "While you go back to your trailer park I'll be taking my custom Harley back to my mansion."

He looked directly into the camera and began to grin, "Four weeks from now. Bound for Glory. It's the end of an Icon."

The crowd's boos seemed to go up tenfold while Immortal grinned and slapped high 5s.

"How does it feel, Sting?" Goldberg smirked at the camera, "Bound for Glory is supposedly supposed to be your night. That's what I keep hearing. 'Sting can't lose at Bound for Glory'. 'Sting's got a record at Bound for Glory'.

"So how does it feel, knowing that you're going to lose to me on what's supposed to be your night?" Bill Goldberg questioned with a grin.

Emma had to turn away and scoff in disgust. She shook her head and crossed her arms in disbelief at the man's complete and utter _arrogance_.

_Don't be so sure of that_, she thought to herself.

"Face the facts." Goldberg went on, "You've never beat me. You couldn't do it then and now that you're an old, broken down man you can't do it now."

Suddenly the lights went out in the arena. The crowd began to yell, a few of them calling for them to come back on.

Emma took a step back, her heart beginning to pound.

Could it be. . .?

Suddenly she felt herself gently being lifted up into a pair of familiar, strong arms. She had little time to react, though, before she was placed outside the ropes and onto the apron.

The arms lingered around her for a little while longer before slipping away, leaving her feeling cold and wanting.

A warm voice whispered in her ear, "Jump to the ground. And be careful."

Emma blinked in the darkness, instantly filled with a myriad of emotions. The warmth moved away from her, bringing her out of her stasis. She had little choice but to do as requested and she carefully jumped to the ground.

All at once the lights came back on, revealing Sting standing behind them. In his hands was his ever ready black baseball bat and on his face was a mask of determination and fury.

Immortal seemed to sense they weren't alone and they turned around. As soon as they realized who was in the ring with them a few back away in fear.

Eric, like the coward that he was, eased his way to the back of the pack and slipped out of the ring, jumping down to the floor below.

The remaining members of Immortal look at one another hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, as if in agreement, they charged at the Insane Icon.

Emma gasped, hands going to her throat as she watched on in worry.

But the worry seemed to be unnecessary because as soon as Immortal advanced on him, Sting proceeded to take them out with his baseball bat.

Members of the nefarious faction flew this way and that out of the ring until all that remained was Sting and Goldberg.

The pair, standing at opposite corners of the ring, glared at one another.

"Come on, Bill!" Sting yelled to the massive wrestler, a maniacal grin on his painted face, "Come on! I'm right here!"

Goldberg looked from Sting to the bat in his hands and back again. He didn't appear all that anxious to try and take on the Icon at that moment.

Sting took a few steps out of the corner and raised his hand, motioning for Goldberg to come on.

While he was doing that Bully Ray had managed to get to his feet and was slowly making his way up the steps and onto the ring apron.

"Come on, Bill!" the Icon yelled, "Come on and show me how you're going to kick the crap out of me!"

Goldberg's eyes flickered over to Bully Ray, noting how he was now on the apron and easing his way between the ropes. He turned back to the Insane Icon and began to smirk.

"I'll make it easy for you." Sting lifted his arms out to his sides and dropped the bat.

Suddenly Goldberg charged at him as Bully Ray jumped into the ring and went for the other wrestler, as well.

But seconds before he would have been jumped, Sting quickly moved out of the way. Goldberg had no time to stop and he ended up spearing the bullying member of Immortal to the canvas.

The Impact Zone was again unexpectedly bathed in darkness. A few moments later Emma found herself once more lifted into Sting's arms and carried out of the arena.

Her head was reeling. She didn't know what to think. There were a million thoughts coursing through her mind and she couldn't get a lock on any of them.

So she just decided to feel instead.

Her arms tightened around his shoulders as she began to nuzzle the crook of his neck, placing kisses against his warm skin. She could hear his groan in the darkness, his nose and chin brushing against the side her cheek. She also felt his pace quickening.

It wasn't long until they reached a side hallway, dim light beginning to shine overhead. Once they reached the secluded area Sting promptly set her down and away from him.

Emma gasped, looking up at him as she breathed heavily.

He, too, was breathing hard. And not just from the action back in the ring. His eyes were narrowed, locked on her. They held that same dark look. The one she saw months ago when he had kissed her for the first time.

"Nothing has changed." he told her, his tone rough.

"If you can look me in the eyes and honestly tell me you don't love me," she told him, "Then I'll walk away."

Sting raked his hands through his hair, everything in him screaming for him to tell her. Lie to her. It was the only way he could keep her away from him.

And yet he couldn't say it. He couldn't even open his mouth to form the words. In fact the very idea of saying them made him sick inside.

Emma realized he couldn't do it and she felt her spirits soar. She could get him back. She knew she could.

She suddenly reached forward, grabbing a hold of his shirt and yanking him to her. Sting staggered, off balance. Emma used that opportunity to lean up and press her lips to his in a fiery kiss.

The second her lips met his it was like a spark was lit. A spark that instantly turned into a blaze. Sting let out a groan, his lips ravaging hers. He gripped hold of her waist and lifted her up, pressing her up against the wall behind them.

As his tongue surged into her mouth he felt her hands travel up his shoulders to grip his hair, pulling him closer to her. His own hands gripped at her hips tightly, his body trapping hers against the wall.

He wanted her. Right there. Right now. He didn't care about anything else.

The weeks apart hadn't lessened his need for her. If anything, they seemed to strengthen it. Night after night he dreamed about her. He could still feel her body beneath his. Could still feel her lips and hands on him. Could still hear her sweet voice gasping as he made love to her. Could still see that look of absolute contentment come across her beautiful face as she went over the edge.

He wanted to see it again. Needed to see it again.

Needed her.

He broke the kiss, his breathing harsh. They stared at one another for a few heart stopping moments, neither speaking. Their gazes were filled with heat and longing, their yearning for one another evident.

Without a word Sting turned, burying his mouth against her neck. There he suckled at her tender flesh, placing tiny bites there before laving at them with his tongue.

Emma's eyes slammed closed as desire began to course through her body. Her grip on his head tightened as she pulled him closer. The things that man could do with his mouth. . .

"I love you." she whispered in his ear before planting a gently kiss against it.

Her words hit him. It was like someone had suddenly dumped a bucket of ice cold water on him, shocking him out of his needs and desires.

He couldn't do this. If he did he could never stay away from her. And that could only lead to her possibly getting hurt again.

He quickly untangled her limbs from around him and set her on the ground. Gasping for air, he shoved away from her.

Emma's eyes flew open and she looked up at him in alarm.

"No." she shook her head, realizing what he was meaning to do, "Steve, no."

Without saying a word he turned and stormed away from her. His body was shaking with need and anger. Anger at himself for starting this.

And even more so for not finishing it.

Emma leaned back against the wall, heartbroken. She closed her eyes and tilted her face upward, tears escaping through her lashes.

They had been so close. . .

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.

.

.

.

Sting stormed out of the building and towards the parking lot, his bag tightly held in his hand. His eyes were locked on his SUV parked a little ways up lot, escape the only thing on his mind.

He could still feel her pressed up against his body. Could still feel that soft skin beneath his lips. He could still smell her sweet sent. Lavender and vanilla.

At the memory of it he felt his body harden and his anger and frustration grow.

He was halfway across the lot when he heard one of the side doors burst open and someone calling his name.

He turned around and grunted in annoyance as he watched one of the backstage crew members, Mark, rushing towards him with a filming camera man.

"Sting! Sting!" Mark called out as he approached, "What are your thoughts going into Bound for Glory? What do you think your chances are up against Goldberg? Does it worry you that you've never beaten him? What happened with Emma-"

"Just knock it off, guys!" the Icon snapped, his temper flaring, "Just give me a break, will ya?"

He turned and started to storm off when he spotted Bischoff's prized sports car parked off to the side of the lot. His eyes began to narrow behind his shades and, reaching into his bag, he stormed over to the beautiful automobile.

Mark looked over at the cameraman, both men wide eyed. They quickly followed the wrestler, the cameraman keeping his camera aimed.

They watched on in awe as Sting removed his baseball bat and dropped the bag. He stepped up the car, looking it over thoughtfully.

"Uh, Sting," Mark called out hesitantly, "I don't, uh, think that's such a good idea."

The Insane Icon ignored him as he walked around to the front of the car, the bat lightly tapping against his thigh.

He slowly drew to a stop, shoving his glasses up his nose. Suddenly, teeth bared, he began to swing it furiously against the front of the car. It wasn't long before the grill was dented and both headlights broken.

"Stay with him, Danny!" Mark called out, his eyes never leaving Sting, "Keep the camera rolling! Oh my God, Bischoff is going to freak!"

Sting didn't stop with just the front of the car. He climbed on top of the hood and began to drive the bat again and again against the windshield. It wasn't long before the shield broke, shards flying in all directions until there was a large gaping hole in the middle of it.

He jumped down and walked back around to the front of the car. As he advanced Mark and Danny hurriedly backed way, Danny keeping the camera on the wrestler.

Sting ignored them, retrieving his bag. He started to walk back across the lot when he paused, his mind filling with dark thoughts. He dropped the bag and turned, going back for the car.

He reached the side of it and took a few more brutal swings, taking out the side mirror and the side windows. He rounded to the other side and offered up the same amount of damage.

After that he walked passed the alarmed crew members, picked up his bag and stalked over to his vehicle.

As he unlocked and opened the door he paused, his eyes going to the passenger side. There, sitting neatly in the seat, was a package.

Sting was instantly on alert. He tossed his gear and bat into the back and climbed in, closing the door. Feeling tense, he reached out and took hold of the foreign object. He shook it, leaning in close to listen for the contents inside. Something shuffled back and forth, but he couldn't make heads or tails of what it was.

He debated on whether he wanted to open it there or toss it in the trash. He imagined that Bischoff or the other members of Immortal might have been nearby, watching and awaiting his reaction.

He decided not to give them one.

He tossed the package back onto the empty seat and started up the SUV. Soon he was heading out of the lot and down the street.

It wasn't too long until he reached his home. As he parked the vehicle he grabbed his gear and the package and headed into the house.

The second he stepped through the door Bongo and Venom came racing over to meet him. He gave the pets a few healthy pats before making his way towards the kitchen.

He tossed the bag on the floor and the package onto the island. The second it hit Venom was on the counter, sniffing at the mysterious parcel.

"Hey, that's not for you." Sting told the curious feline as he scooped the cat up, offered it a few pats and set it down.

He slipped off his shades and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes locked on the package.

He once again debated on what he wanted to do. What tricks were there left up Bischoff's sleeve? He already knew who he was facing, so why did the little weasel want to continue on with his games?

Curiosity finally got the better of him and he grabbed a hold of the package, ripping the brown paper off.

He paused, surprised by what he found. It wasn't a box, as he suspected, but a stack of pages.

But not just any pages:

_LOVE'S STING_

_By:_

_Emma Sheffield_

A manuscript. Emma's manuscript.

He carefully picked up the pages and made his way over to his table. He slid into the chair and placed the manuscript onto the table. His fingers gently traced over her name, again and again.

Swallowing, he cautiously turned the page and dove right in.

The more he read the more in awe he became. It was them. The two of them. Names, locations, situations and events had been altered or changed completely, but it was them.

He recognized himself immediately, stunned at how well she had captured him. Not just his appearance but his mannerisms, the way he spoke, everything. She must have painstakingly studied him to capture him so well.

Or she just loved him so much that she knew him so completely.

As he turned to the next page a note slipped out from the manuscript to flutter to the floor. Sting caught sight of it and leaned over, picking it up.

As he unfolded it and began to read he felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest.

_Steve,_

_I've combined my two greatest passions._

_This is the end result._

_I'm loving you,_

_Emma_

He read the words over and over again until they burned in his mind. It was only then that he turned back to the story and continued on. . .

.

.

.

.

.

The sun was started to rise early the next morning, the sky painted in the colors of gold and orange with traces of dark blue and hazy purple remaining.

Sting was still seated at the kitchen table, having spent the entire night reading Emma's manuscript.

As he reached the last page he leaned back in his seat, raking a hand through his hair.

A happy ending. Hero and heroine had made it through all the obstacles thrown at them and love had conquered all.

If only real life could be that way.

He flipped it back to the cover page, his eyes landing on Emma's name. He once again found himself tracing her name, almost lovingly in his actions.

If only in real life. . .

.

.

.

One more part to go. . .Wow. I can't believe it's almost all over.

So what will happen? Will Sting beat Goldberg? Will he stop Eric once and for all? Will he and Emma find their way back to one another? Well, I'm not telling. :P You just have to wait for the final part to _Joker's Smile_ to find out_._ ;)

(Final part should be out in a few weeks.)


	24. Part TwentyFour: Bound For Glory

Here it is, the final part. I just. . .I cannot express to you all how honored and humbled I feel. When I first started writing this story I hoped someone would like it. But to see the attention it's received. . .Well, I would have never imagined it. Thank you, all, so very much. Words cannot express how much your consideration has meant to me.

And now, without further ado, the final part to _Joker's Smile_. . .

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To say the atmosphere backstage at Bound for Glory was tense would have been an understatement. The morale with the wrestlers and crew was at an all time low.

All night, aside from the Abyss/Bully Ray match, Immortal had dominated their opponents. It was getting to the point where the Impact wrestlers were doubting they even stood a chance.

Sting emerged from a side hallway and began to make his way towards the front of the house. The end of the night had finally come. The only match left was his with Goldberg. It all came down to him. If he won Impact was saved, Dixie got her company back.

And Emma was free.

If he didn't. . .

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed, refusing to think of the second option. He couldn't go in there with any doubts. He needed to walk into the match believing he would win.

He had to. There was too much riding on him not to.

A few of the wrestlers came up and clapped him on the back or offered their best wishes for that night.

Tara stepped up to him, eyes on the floor. The Knockout fidgeted with her hands, clearly uncomfortable given their spat a few weeks ago.

"Tara, it's all right." Sting told her, that unpleasant moment between them instantly forgotten in his book.

Tara looked up at him and nodded. She reached over and gave him a quick hug for good luck.

"Kick his ass." she told him with a small smile.

Sting grinned down at her and nodded, "That's the plan."

He pulled back and noticed someone walking towards them.

He instantly froze, everything in him going still.

Emma.

She looked so beautiful. Her curls were down her back and laying softly on her shoulders, shining in the backstage lights. She was dressed in a pretty, strapless black dress, tasteful and classic. Just like her. Tied around the bodice were two ribbons of white and red.

Black, white and red. His colors. She was wearing his colors, showing the world that she still belonged to him.

He was both humbled and moved by her silent declaration.

Sting watched quietly as she approached, his face revealing nothing.

Emma stepped up to him, the pair only a few inches apart. She looked up into his eyes, her own filled with longing and a profound love.

He found he couldn't watch her any longer so he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Without a word she placed her hands upon his chest, leaned up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek.

Eyes still closed, he turned his head slightly, his face nuzzling against her own. He couldn't help himself. Couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. And he really didn't want to.

She pulled back and he opened his eyes, staring down at her.

"Stay safe." she whispered before turning and walking away.

He looked after her, everything in him screaming to go after her, grab her and kiss her. Tell her he still loved her and he wanted her. Something.

But he remained where he was.

He bowed his head and let out a sigh before turning around. He instantly drew to a stop, spotting James Storm, AJ and Devon, along with a few other wrestlers and crew, standing behind him.

"All of us wanted to come out and say thanks." AJ told him, "And we. . .we've got no better guy going in there tonight than you. You came into this company fighting for us and you keep fighting for us. And we just wanted to say that we appreciate it."

"And we've got your back." Storm added, "If you need us, we're here."

"Amen." Devon agreed.

Sting smiled at them, touched by their words and sentiments. He couldn't think of a better group of men and women to fight for than them.

They began to disperse, leaving him to psych himself up and get ready. Soon he was all alone in the corridor.

This was it. All the months of tricks and mind games. All the wins and losses, both professional and personal. All the sacrifices had finally came down to this moment.

It was just he and Goldberg.

He couldn't lose.

He wouldn't allow it.

There was too much at stake.

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.

Emma made her way down the hallway. Though she appeared calm and cool on the outside, inside she was shaking like a leaf.

It was all too much. This night. What it meant to so many people. What it meant to her.

Seeing him again.

She wasn't prepared for the shock of seeing him. Even now it had felt like she was awash by a tidal wave, left trembling and out of sorts.

Would she ever feel normal again?

She rounded a corner and drew to a stop, her eyes beginning to narrow.

Up ahead Eric stood with the other members of Immortal. They were all smiles, patting each other on the backs and celebrating. So sure that they had this in the bag and that Impact would stay under their thumbs.

The guys and Karen walked off, leaving only Eric. It was then that Emma approached him.

"How does it feel?" she questioned him, her words not filled with self-satisfaction or conceit but a deep pensiveness, "Knowing that you're going to lose everything?"

Eric's eyes narrowed, his teeth beginning to bare in a tightly controlled snarl, "Are you so sure about that, Emma darling? Are you forgetting that Immortal has run the gambit all night?"

"It doesn't matter." Emma told him with a shrug, "The only match that matters is coming up. Steve will beat Goldberg. He will win. And you and the rest of your pack of jackals will be out of here."

"My, you have gotten a lot more confident as of late." Eric crossed his arms and leaned in, his sneer turning into one of his famous Cheshire grins, "You seem to be forgetting that your precious Sting has never won against my guy."

Emma chose to ignore that last part, "You're right about one thing, Eric. I am becoming more confident. Thanks to Steve I've learned that I'm stronge. Stronger than I ever thought possible. And I know that no matter what happens, you're not going to win."

Eric shook his head and snickered at her words. He reached over and patted her cheek, causing Emma to flinch and draw away from him.

"I always win, sweet cheeks." the Impact owner chuckled before turning on his heels and walking off.

Emma stared after him with narrowed eyes before turning around and walking over to a set of monitors. A few of the wrestlers, as well as some crew, were standing around and watching with baited breath.

A thrashing song began to play out over the arena. It wasn't long until Goldberg began to make his way down the ramp, slapping his face and psyching himself up for the match. The crowd's booing and jeering accompanied him but he paid them no heed.

The massive wrestler climbed into the ring and began to pace the length of it, loosening up and firing devastating uppercuts into the air.

The crowds taunts soon turned to cheers as the sounds of _'Slay Me' _filled the arena.

In the back the wrestlers and crew began to cheer and clap, wanting to offer their support to the only man who could save Impact now.

Emma kept her eyes locked on the row of monitors, the young woman watching intently as the Insane Icon, himself, suddenly stepped out onto the ramp. He aimed his bat at the crowd, calling out to them.

Suddenly a hand was placed on Emma's shoulder. She looked up to find Abyss standing behind her, offering her a kind expression from behind his mask.

She placed her hand on his and sighed, turning her attention back to the screen.

Sting began to make his way down to the ring, his eyes now locked on Goldberg. As he climbed the steps and slipped between the ropes he dropped the bat and stepped up to the behemoth wrestler. They came nose-to-nose, the pair talking trash to one another.

"Why don't you back out now before I have to kick your ass." Goldberg smirked at the Icon.

"Try it." Sting grinned at the other man.

"You know how this is gonna go." Goldberg told him, "With me beating the hell out of you like I've done time and time again."

"Things have changed, Goldie." Sting smirked at the other man, "I'm not the same guy you used to know. I might just surprise you."

At that moment the ref came in between them, pushing them back. Sting gave his opponent his back and walked over to the farthest ring post. He climbed to the top rope and raised his arms up to the crowd.

A few of the fans waved their hands up and down in the 'we're not worthy' motion. Sting spotted them and promptly returned the action.

He climbed down and turned back to face Goldberg, removing his robe. He handed it to So Cal Val and turned back around, loosening up.

Jeremy Borash stepped to the middle of the ring and raised his microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, live from the Impact Zone it's time for your Bound for Glory main event of the evening!"

The crowd began to roar with excitement.

"This is a Career vs. Company match!" Jeremy announced, hyping just how serious the match was, "The fate of Impact, the wrestlers and the crew all rely on this!

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, introducing the combatants." he went on, "First of all, standing in the corner to my left, he weighted in today at two hundred and eighty-five pounds. From Tulsa, Oklahoma. . .Goldberg!"

The crowd began to boo, a few of them cheering and chanting the behemoth wrestler's name.

As their reaction died down a little Jeremy went on, "And standing to my right, weighting in today at two hundred and fifty-eight pounds. From Venice Beach, California. . .The Icon. . . Sting!"

The backstage area was set ablaze. The cheering was almost deafening.

Emma bowed her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

_Please let him do this, _she thought silently to herself.

As she looked back up she watched Jeremy exit the ring. Sting and Goldberg stood at either corner, looking at one another darkly.

It wasn't long before the bell rang and the match began.

The two wrestlers met in the center of the ring, locking up. Goldberg managed to back the Icon up, pushing him against the ropes. They slowly released their hold on one another. Goldberg made like he was going to back up but instead he drove his knee into the other man's gut.

Sting let out a grunt but had no time to recover as the large wrestler grabbed his arm and whipped him towards the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. Sting shot into them and came back where Goldberg scooped him up and started to drive him to the mat. Sting managed to slip out of the hold at the last minute, but lost his balance and fell to the canvas.

Goldberg was on him in an instantly, giving him a few kicks and dragging him up off the ground. He again shot him into the ropes and as he came back he was able to lift him up and slam him onto the mat with unrelenting force.

Emma flinched as the move, her eyes darting to the ground for a second.

Back in the ring Goldberg was yelling something to crowd. As he did so the Icon shakily rose to his feet, leaning against the ropes for support. The colossal wrestler turned back around and ran to him, clotheslining him over the top rope and to the ground below.

Sting hit with a thud, groaning as pain shot through his body. He took a few deep breathes, struggling to regain his senses and get to his feet.

Back in the ring Goldberg walked over to the nearest camera and called out, "Game over!"

Sting made it to his feet and began to make his way around the ring. One, to buy time to regain his bearings. Two, to slow things down so that he could figure out his next move.

He eventually got to the steps and began to make his way up. He was about to get back into the ring when Goldberg advanced towards him. Brian Hebner stepped forward, though, shoving the other wrestler back.

Sting climbed back into the ring and the pair soon locked up again. Once more the Insane Icon was shoved back towards the ropes. Goldberg managed to once again drive his knee into the other man's gut. He sent him shooting across the ring, this time meaning to power his massive boot into the other man's face.

As the Icon came back he ducked under at the last minute, coming up behind the other wrestler. As Goldberg turned to face him Sting jumped up into the air and delivered a standing dropkick that got the crowd on it's feet and the backstage area cheering in exhilaration.

Goldberg staggered to his feet, finding his way to the ropes. It was now Sting's turn to hit the ropes and come at him, clotheslining the behemoth over the top rope and onto the floor below.

Goldberg miraculously landed on his feet and turned around to face his opponent. Sting looked down at him with dark eyes, his hands raised up at his sides as if to say, 'How do you like it?'

Goldberg paced back and forth for a few moments, collecting himself. He slowly turned and began to make his way up the steps and back into the ring.

They once again locked up, only this time there was much more resistance when Goldberg tried to push the other man back. Still, he was able to do it and sent Sting to the ropes. He kicked the other man in the gut and started to whip him across the ring when Sting reversed it.

As Goldberg bounced off the ropes Sting grabbed under his arm, meaning to flip him over. Goldberg stopped him in his tracks and somehow got the other man onto his shoulders. He drove him to the mat and followed him down, grabbing his arm into a cross arm breaker.

"No!" James Storm groaned, a few of the wrestlers and crew turning away from the monitors.

Emma kept her eyes locked on them though, hand to her throat. She watched as Sting kicked at the mat, trying to get out of the vicious hold.

Brian Hebner leaned over the fallen Icon and asked, "Do you want to quit, Sting?"

"No!" Sting yelled, pain shooting through his arm and shoulder.

He continued to struggle, desperately trying to get out of the excruciating hold.

By some means he managed to get onto his stomach, his feet landing on the ropes. Brian quickly jumped forward, ordering Goldberg to release the hold.

The ref started to count and the enormous wrestler had no choice but to let go. He rolled away and got to his feet. Sting, too, climbed to his. Though he was rotating his arm, trying to shake off the pain that still throbbed through his right side.

The pair circled one another, each looking for an opening.

"Why don't you just give up?" Goldberg called to him.

"Not a chance." Sting answered between grit teeth.

He raised his hands in a silent challenge of a test of strength. Smirking, Goldberg reached out and locked his hands with Sting's.

They were at a stalemate for a few seconds, neither man able to push the other back. Then Goldberg got a burst of strength and sent his opponent back a few steps. He followed it up with a kick to Sting's gut and whipping him into the ropes.

Sting came back, but with a kick of his own. As Goldberg hunched over and tried to recover the Insane Icon bounced himself off the ropes, grabbed the other wrestler by the back of the head and slammed him face first into the mat.

The crowd went wild, the backstage area erupting in cheers.

Sting wasted no time and climbed to his feet. He grabbed Goldberg by the back of the head and lifted him up, sending him into the ropes. As the other man came shooting back towards him the Icon sent a double kick to his knee, causing the behemoth to fall.

He grabbed a hold of Goldberg's now injured leg and dropped all of his weight onto it, causing the other man to yell in pain. He paid him no heed as he stood and promptly did it again.

He climbed to his feet, raking his hands through his hair. With determination in his eyes he began to set Goldberg up for the Scorpion Deathlock. He almost had it on when Goldberg kicked out, sending Sting towards the ropes.

As Goldberg got to his feet Sting came up behind him, issuing a kick to the back of his injured knee. Goldberg hobbled a bit, but surprisingly didn't go down.

Sting sent another kick. Again Goldberg hobbled, but he remained standing with the aid of the ropes.

The Icon delivered a vicious punch to the other wrestler, rocking Goldberg back. He leaned back against the ropes but remained on his feet.

Sting put Goldberg into a head lock, flipping him over his hip and onto the mat. He came down with him, tightening his hold on the other man.

He managed to keep him down for a few moments before the substantial wrestler struggled to his knees. Soon they were back on their feet, Sting's arm still locked around the other man's neck.

The Icon leaned in, hammering Goldberg with a shot to the gut. As Goldberg staggered back Sting took hold of him and suplexed him.

Seemingly unfazed, Goldberg instantly climbed to his feet. As Sting turned around the other wrestler kicked him in the gut.

He then grabbed the Icon, dispensing a suplex of his own. He quickly covered the man, hoping that would be enough to get the pin.

The ref's hand hit the mat as he called out, "One! Two!"

Miraculously, at the last second, Sting kicked out.

A few of the wrestlers breathed sighs of relief. Emma could only look on with wide eyes, worry coursing through her body.

Both men slowly got to their feet. Goldberg was just a second quicker and he advanced on his opponent, kicking him in the stomach. He followed it up with a swinging neck breaker, sending the other man to the ground with a thud.

"Come on, Sting!" AJ screamed at the monitor.

"I can't watch this." Tara muttered as she turned away, the Knockout feeling too nervous to see what would happen next.

Goldberg came to his feet, favoring his injured leg. He promptly covered the other man and the ref began to count again, "One! Two!"

And the Insane Icon kicked out again!

Both men went to their feet, Goldberg again kicking Sting. He backed him into a corner before whipping him into the opposite one. Sting hit it with a grunt, pain coursing through his back.

He watched as the other man came racing towards him. At the last second he dove out of the way. Goldberg couldn't stop and his shoulder slammed into the ring post.

Sting saw his chance and he climbed to the top turnbuckle. As Goldberg righted himself the Icon dove from the top rope, landing on the other man and knocking him to the canvas.

Sting climbed to his feet and turned to the audience, giving them a howl. They, and a few of the others in the back, returned it enthusiastically.

Goldberg staggered to his feet, leaning back against the corner. The Icon quickly darted across, hitting a Stinger Splash on him. As the crowd went nuts he backed up and did it again.

The wrestlers and crew in the back began clapping and stamping their feet as he backed up for a third one.

Emma, grinning broadly, watched him as her heart pounded against her ribs.

He took off, ready to hit the third Splash. But just as he was about to land Goldberg caught him in midair and slammed him into the mat with unbelievable force.

"No!" Emma gasped, wide eyed.

A few members of the crowd groaned in disbelief. Others cheered and began to chant Goldberg's name.

Both men were laid out on the mat and Brian had no choice but to start a count.

"One!" Brian called, raising both fingers, "Two! Three!"

Sting rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl over to the ropes. His intentions were to pull himself up but he was only able to get to the bottom rope before slumming across it. He let out a groan as his head fell forward and his eyes closed.

Goldberg staggered to his feet, leaning in the corner as he tried to get his bearings.

Brian looked over at Sting, noticing that he still wasn't moving.

Realizing he had no choice, he began to count, "One!"

"I have to go to him!" Emma cried out and started to make her way to the ring.

She was almost to the curtain when she felt someone clamp down on her upper arm and

yank her back. She was roughly turned around and found herself face-to-chest with a smirking Scott Steiner. Standing behind him were Jeff, Gunner and Bully Ray.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jeff grinned down at her.

"You ain't going anywhere, little girl." Gunner added.

Emma tried to yank her arm free, hissing through clenched teeth, "Let me go, you cretin! Let go of my arm right now!"

"I don't think so." Scott snickered.

"Best get your hands off the lady."

Immortal turned, noticing that James and AJ were standing behind them.

"What do you think you're gonna do?" Jeff laughed.

The Cowboy and AJ were soon flanked by Devon and Abyss. As the odds evened out Immortal began to grow nervous.

Scott shoved Emma aside and soon Immortal was brawling with the Impact wrestlers.

Emma turned and raced towards the curtain. The only thing going through her mind was that Sting was hurt and she had to go to him. It was instinctive, like breathing.

She emerged from behind the curtain and began to hurry down the ramp. A few of the fans cheered her appearance. A couple jokers even began to boo. She paid them all no heed, her eyes as well as her focus only on the injured man in the ring.

Emma raced around the ring, coming to the side where Sting was laid out. She looked up at him in alarm. He was hanging over the ropes, all but out of it.

She slapped her hands on the apron and called out, "Steve! Steve, get up! You have to get up! Please, you have to keep fighting!"

But it didn't seem to do any good. His eyes were glassy and unfocused.

"Five!" the ref continued to count.

Emma looked up at him for a moment, biting her lip. She turned back to Sting, her mind racing. She had to do something. But what?

"Please!" she cried out, desperate.

"Six!" Brian called.

Something clicked in her mind and her eyes lit up. She reached out, grabbing a hold of his face and leaned forward to press her lips against his. A half second later she felt him begin to respond and she pulled back, looking at him in worry.

Sting's eyes began to focus. As his vision came back he saw her standing before him, looking up at him in concern. Surprise and wonder filled him. Was he dreaming?

"Seven!" the ref yelled.

That got his attention and he finally began to get his bearings. Shaky, though with a clearer head, he rose to his feet and turned to face an arrogant Goldberg. The crowd began to cheer and Emma watched on in trepidation.

Goldberg sent a crashing punch to Sting's face. The other man took the blow and slowly turned back to face the monster, a fire burning in his brown eyes and his face filled with resolve. He said something but Emma couldn't hear it because the crowd was cheering so loudly.

Whatever it was it made Goldberg angry and he hit Sting again. The Icon once more faced him and let out a yell, beating at his chest. It seemed as though each time Goldberg hit him, it only seemed to pump him up more.

The crowd went nuts and Emma raised her hands in the air, cheering loudly, "Yes!"

Goldberg swung at him again. And again Sting turned back to face him. Only this time he answered him with a punch of his own. He hit him again and again until Goldberg landed back against the ropes.

The large wrestler shook off the blows and charged back at his opponent. Sting ducked and turned, grabbed the back of the other man's head and once again slamming him to the mat.

The Insane Icon climbed to his feet and grabbed a hold of Goldberg's legs, turning him over.

As the fans began to cheer he wrapped up Goldberg's legs and stepped over. Their cheers turned louder as he raised on hand and waved them on. Suddenly he sat down and the Impact Zone began to roar.

Brian knelt down and asked Goldberg if he wanted to quit. Goldberg shook his head, but his face told another story.

"Ahhh!" he roared, gripping his head in agony.

Sting looked over his shoulder at the fallen man. A maniacal grin came to his lips as he jumped up and sat back down, causing Goldberg to howl in pain.

"Tap!" Emma yelled, beating her hands on the apron.

Goldberg clenched his fists, everything in him screaming for him to get out of the hold, fight, tap out, something. Anything!

Sting tightened his hold, having no intention of letting the other man go. He could feel it. Taste it. Not only victory but vindication. They were just around the corner. But he just had to hold on. For the wrestlers. For the crew. For Dixie.

For Emma.

And he had to admit for himself. He could feel his adrenaline pumping through his veins at the thought that finally, FINALLY, he might be able to beat Goldberg.

"Come on!" he found himself yelling.

Goldberg raked his hands over his head again, his face twisted in pain.

Suddenly he was beating his hands against the mat, yelling out, "I quit! I quit!"

The Impact Zone went nuts. They began to yell and clap as Sting released his hold and climbed to his feet. He ran his hands through his hair before turning to the crowd and letting out a monstrous howl.

The Icon climbed to the second rope and waved to the crowd as they cheered him on.

As Goldberg and Brain left the ring Emma climbed in. She looked up at Sting with happiness and admiration. She was so proud of him that she felt like she could burst.

Sting raised a hand to the crowd before turning around. He caught sight of her in the ring and drew to a stop, the pair looking at one another with uncertainty.

Emma took a step back and bit her lip, suddenly unsure. Maybe she should have left ringside but her first impulse had been to go to him.

"What are you doing here?" Sting asked her quietly, raising his hands up at his sides.

Emma felt her heart sink. Though he hadn't sounded angry, she worried that he didn't want her there.

"I had to." she found herself saying, "I saw you were in trouble and I-I couldn't stay away."

Sting couldn't believe it. Even after everything that had happened, after everything he had put her through, she had still gone to his side when he was in trouble. He felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He had never had anyone so fully in his corner; someone who cared so much for him. And to think he had almost lost her. By his own hand, no less.

Without another word he crossed over to her, lifted her up into his arms and kissed her passionately. He felt her arms tighten around his neck as she began to return the embrace.

Emma couldn't contain her joy. Not only had he won, but he still cared for her. Still wanted to be with her. It was everything she had ever wanted.

Eric suddenly came storming down the ramp and into the ring.

"No!" he bellowed in rage, "No, no, no! This isn't happening!"

Sting and Emma broke the kiss and Sting set her down. The pair looked at Bischoff in irritation as he began to rant and rave around the ring.

"Do you think this is over?!" Eric screamed, "Do you think you've won? You haven't won anything!"

He turned narrow eyes onto Emma as he added, "And as for you, you little slut-"

Before Sting could advance on him Emma suddenly hauled off and punched Bischoff in the jaw. Sting's eyes widened, the wrestler clearly impressed.

"Not bad." he grinned and placed a hand on her back.

Emma, holding her hand, nodded, "Thanks."

"Ow, my jaw!" Eric ranted, holding the injured side of his face, "You little bitch! You'll pay for that!"

"But let me show you another technique." Sting murmured, drawling Emma back a step.

"Go ahead." Emma motioned for him to continue.

Sting suddenly turned and leveled Eric, the shorter man crashing to the canvas like a sack of bricks.

Emma looked down at the fallen man and nodded, "Not bad."

"Thanks." Sting grinned at her before taking her sore hand and kissing it.

At that moment Dixie Carter began to make her way down the ramp. Smiling brightly, she climbed into the ring and walked over to give Sting a big hug.

"Thank you." she told him gratefully, "I cannot thank you enough."

"This is the day that the rightful owner gets her company back." Sting told her, his words earnest and sincere.

"Thank you." Dixie repeated, grateful tears in her eyes.

"But, Dixie, it doesn't erase what happened eighteen months ago." the Icon went on, "And eighteen months ago I tried to talk to you. I tried to show you the light. Tried to tell you the inner workings of just how this wrestling business works because there are a lot of chess players out here. I know you found out the hard way."

"It's true." Dixie nodded in agreement.

"It's a tough business for sure." Sting held out his hand to her, "And, for what it's worth, I'm gonna extend my hand of grace out there to ya. Because, Dixie, even though what happened happened-the company was lost. We got it back now."

The crowd began to cheer at that and Emma applauded.

"Dixie, you did the right thing. You-when I didn't have any chance at all, when I thought that I was completely done with wrestling, Dixie, you gave me a second chance."

The crowd shouted their approval at that.

"And what's phenomenal about it is you gave me a home right here in TNA. You gave me a home right here with this brand, Dixie." Sting's words began to gain volume as his emotions grew, "I love this place! I love Impact Wrestling! And I wouldn't take anything back over the last eighteen months."

His eyes darted to Emma for a moment, his features softening. That wasn't entirely true. There were a few things he would have taken back.

Emma looked up at him, smiling sweetly. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

Sting nodded to her before turning his attention back to the rightful Impact owner.

"My hand of grace is extended out to you." he told her, "But I'm saying from here on forward, you're gonna have to surround yourself with people who are sincere. People who are looking out for your best interests. People who're looking out for the best interests of the wrestlers in the back. The best interests of these fans right here."

The crowd's cheering grew at that.

"You're gonna have to do that, Dixie, because there is just no room for error anymore. The same mistake cannot be made a second time. This is your second chance."

Dixie nodded, taking in his words. She realized the validity of them and it was clear she wasn't about to let the company slip through her fingers again.

"Thank you. Thank you sincerely." she told him, "And first of all, I have to apologize to you. You were right. You were right all along. And I didn't listen.

"To you, to all of the wrestlers in the back, and to all of you fans I want to say I'm sorry." she expressed, "And I assure you-no, I _promise_ you I will not make that same mistake again. I promise you."

Sting nodded, "I know."

"Because my place is not here in the ring." Dixie went on, "My place, my role in this company, is making sure it's gonna be the very best it can be. And like you, Sting, I'm a fighter. In this last year, if it's done anything to me, it's made me want to fight harder then I ever fought in my life to make this company the most successful wrestling company in the world!"

The fans began to clap, chanting, "TNA! TNA! TNA! TNA!"

"But to do so," Dixie went on over the yelling, "But to do so, I'm gonna have to spend a lot more time at headquarters, focusing on my role as president of this company once again. And what that means is, I need you. I need you to step in and help me run the day-to-day wrestling operations of this company."

Emma began to beam as she realized what Dixie was saying. She looked up at Sting with a bright smile.

Sting was confused on what she exactly meant, "What? I don't understand."

"Listen," Dixie told him, "I will give you all the authority to do whatever you need to at Impact Wrestling to make it the best it can be. To turn this place around. But I'm dealing with a lot of stuff right now. Things I've got to wade through and figure out.

"And while I'm doing it if you would please-I know you've gone to bat for me so much." her voice filled with emotion as she went on, "Since the day you stepped foot in this company you've not stopped fighting for me or for this company. And we need you now more than ever to help us turn this thing around. Are you willing to do it? Please."

Sting's eyes widened in surprise, "Wow."

The crowd began to cheer at the announcement, calling for Sting to take the job. He took a step back and pondered it, eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

Emma looked up at the Icon and grinned, thrilled and proud.

"I can't think of a better GM." she told him sincerely.

He looked down at her, his expression softening. He clasped her hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

He turned back to Dixie and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do it."

The crowd began to shout their approval, Emma loudest of all.

While that was going on Eric started to come to. He looked around, getting his bearings before sitting up. Groaning and holding his now sore jaw, he staggered to his feet.

Sting noticed him and, slowly removing his hand from Emma's, stated, "And as my first official act, I think I'm going to take out the trash."

As the crowd began to cheer, some of them even singing _'Hey, Hey, Goodbye'_, the Icon grabbed the former Impact owner by the scruff of his neck and yanked him out of the ring. Emma and Dixie followed after, the two women unable to keep from grinning as they watched Sting drag the pleading smaller man through the back.

He was met with a few of the other guys, who had a hold of Jeff Jarrett, Scott Steiner, Gunner and Bully Ray, the four men looking worse for wear. Karen Jarrett was screaming like a banshee but nobody paid her any heed.

Sting led the way as Immortal was literally dragged kicking and screaming out of the building. The wrestlers passed several of the crew, a returned Jack among them, and they all cheered and applauded the final removal of the men who had made the Impact Zone a living hell for so long.

Eric was the last to be sent through the back door. Before he went, though, Sting spun him around and yanked him in close until they were nose-to-nose.

Bischoff shrank back as much as he could, which wasn't very much given the hold the wrestler had on him, and he began to stammer and plead, "P-P-P-Please, St-Stinger. Please, come on. T-T-Think of all the history we have together. All the years w-w-we've known each other."

Sting paused, giving thought to his words, "You know what, Bischoff? You're right."

He suddenly spun the man around and sent a vicious kick to his rear end, causing Eric to fly out of the building and onto the pavement with a thud.

"Do yourself a favor and don't come back." Sting warned, "Because if you do, I'm gonna get ya."

And with that he slammed the door to the sounds of the Impact wrestlers and crew celebrating.

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Sting and Emma went through Bischoff's old office later that night. They packed up anything that belonged to the ex-owner to be thrown into the garbage later.

As Emma sorted through Eric's desk she gave pause, her hand freezing above a set of papers.

Her contract.

She slowly lifted it, the pages trembling slightly in her grip.

Sting looked over at her, silently watching as she read the contract over and over again. He began to smile when she ripped it into pieces and tossed the pages into the garbage.

"Feels good, doesn't it." he grinned down at her.

"Oh yes." the young woman answered with a sigh before continuing on with her work.

Emma threw a ton of Eric's old folders into a nearby plastic bag and sighed with contentment. In the garbage where it belonged. Just like her ex-boss.

She turned to Sting and shook her head, heartfelt, "I can't thank you enough."

Sting looked over at her and smiled, reaching for her hand. He gave it a squeeze before offering her a wink and a smile.

"You really are a hero." Emma went on, stepping up to him and taking hold of his hand in both of hers, "You saved the company. And you saved me."

She looked around the office and murmured, "I thought things were hopeless but thanks to you. . ."

Her voice trailed off and Sting could see just how deeply she felt. He reached out and touched her cheek, tilting her face up so that he could look deeply into her eyes.

"You're a free woman now." he told her with a smile, "You can go back to California and the bookstore. You have all the time and freedom in the world to work on your manuscripts now."

"Yeah, it's great." Emma offered a wistful smile.

Her eyes once again scanned the office and a slight frown began to form on her lips.

Sting noticed and caught her eye, asking, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Emma turned back to him and smiled, shrugging, "Nothing. I'm happy. Really I am."

"But. . .?" Sting prompted gently.

"I'm really going to miss this place." Emma admitted, "And everyone here. I've found some really good friends here.

"And more." she added, looking up at him poignantly.

Sting studied her, conflicted. He had meant it when he said she was free to leave. And he thought she would have jumped at the chance to return home and back to her old life. But to see her now, at the sadness in her eyes at the thought of leaving.

Of leaving him.

He wasn't going to lose her again. He didn't care if it did make him selfish. He had to be with her. Needed to be with her.

He slipped into Insane Icon mode, taking off his shades and tossing them on the desk, and replied with an exaggerated voice, "You know, I'm going to have a lot of work to do here. I could use an assistant."

Emma giggled, "Oh really?"

She pretended to ponder that, "Hmm, well I do have a bit of experience in that department."

"Oh yeah?" Sting murmured as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Yep." Emma smiled, sliding her hands up his chest, "But I have one condition."

"What's that?" Sting inquired.

"Well, my old boss was a real letch." Emma's nose crinkled at the thought, "Always making smarmy comments to me. Always trying to hit on me. That kind of thing."

"That's terrible." Sting murmured as he slowly lifted her up into his arms.

"Hmm, yes it was." Emma agreed.

Sting pulled her closer, their lips mere inches apart, "So you don't want me to do any of that."

"No, my rule is that you have to." Emma grinned at him, "At least once a day."

"Hmm," Sting grew thoughtful, "I think I might be able to handle that."

A wicked light came to his eyes as he grinned, "Can I chase you around the desk, too?"

Emma laughed, "You better!"

Sting gave her a joker's smile before his lips descended on hers in a passionate kiss.

The End

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I just want to give a HUGE thank you to everyone who read, favorited and reviewed _Joker's Smile_. I cannot tell you how much it meant to me. :)

Also, to let you know, I am currently working on a sequel entitled: _Rise of the Crow_. I can only hope you enjoy it as much as you've enjoyed _Joker's Smile_. :) Not sure when it will be posted (I'm still working on the outline right now).

Oh, and don't forget to check out _The Man in Me _if you haven't all ready_._ I promise one of these days I WILL get it finished. :P

I'm also currently working on another Sting fic (of course ;) ) entitled _Dark Warrior._ Also, a CM Punk fic: _Wrestling Between the Pages._ So be on the look out for those whenever I get them posted. (Plug, plug. ;) )


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